


League of Legends Series

by TheSilverLady



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Action/Adventure, All The Ships, Champions League, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Multi, Romance, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2019-09-14 18:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 66,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilverLady/pseuds/TheSilverLady
Summary: Enjoy these one-shots.* I don't do smut.* I take requests, but I'm slow so bear with me. [Requests Currently Closed]





	1. Leona x Pantheon

It was during the early hours of morning, the sun still barely peeking from over the horizon, the pale moon beating down on the Solaris household. Its large exterior gleaming with dark golden bronze, and it was a majestic sight, one which caused Leona's heart to grow weary. She wanted more to life, and she wanted to be free, her place was not here at home. She wanted away from the serene beauty that was her home, spending her days drinking tea isolated within the mansion's walls, she knew how to fight, how to protect herself and others, she was meant for so much more, but none saw that, and instead she was trapped, treated like a porcelain doll.

Which is why today she was running away, she had tried to talk her way out, but the world was conspiring against her, even the gentlest breeze could crack her soft exterior, or so they were convinced. She was forced to come to this, and she would not let this opportunity escape. She wasn't sure how much she would need, but Leona packed the essentials, a fair amount of clothes, a skin of water and food that would not stale on her journey, and ultimately, her sword which she had managed to sneak during the previous night.

Her large leather pack was filled to the brim, and she smiled ready to depart, she wouldn't be leaving through the great halls of the mansion. However, she had been stealing bed sheets for the past month storing them in a hidden compartment in her wardrobe. Leona finally pulled out the bed sheets from their hiding spot, she had knotted them in advanced and attached them to her bedpost pulling as hard as she could to ensure the bed sheets would not loosen on her. Once she was assured she could safely make it to the ground, she secured her pack to her back and stood on the window sill lowering the knotted sheets.

She took a moment to appreciate the crisp morning breeze and slid off the window sill slowly lowering herself making sure to avoid putting too much pressure on the linen, any sudden movement could loosen one of the knots, and she would be screwed. As she neared the ground, her worse fears came to light as the bedsheets came undone, and she plummeted little did she know, she was barely a foot off the terrain. A loud yelp escaped her lips, but in a split second she found herself on the ground and frowned hoping no one had heard or seen her.

Unfortunately for the young Solari, a large shadow towered over her, and she froze staring at the stone wall in front of her. She had come this far, and she would not be going down without a fight, with a silent battlecry she picked herself up and turned swiftly elbowing the figure behind her. However, her elbow was caught with ease, and she heard a deep familiar chuckle uncertain whether she should be relieved or even more worried. "Milady you're up early," the spearman stated with a knowing look.

Leona chuckled nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Pantheon, it's so good to see you, just taking a morning walk," she lied knowing she sounded ridiculous.

"Right," the man trailed off, his god-like presence making the lady gulp. "You're running away." His voice was raw with emotion. She had never heard him so upset, and she took a step back clutching the straps of her pack. If it had been anyone else, she would have made a run for it, but she doubted that reckless plan would work against Pantheon. If he weren't her sworn protector, he would have made her eat dirt, and in a one-on-one situation she stood no chance, and so she sighed in defeat and looked up at the man, his helmet making him all the more intimidating.

"Are you going to stop me?" She asked. Although just a moment ago she had sighed in defeat, her eyes blazed with determination and the Artisan of War planted his spear in the soft ground bending the knee.

"I will follow you to the ends of the earth, through hell and back if necessary, my spear is yours to wield milady," he spoke earnestly.

"How many times have I told you not to do that?" she sighed placing her hands on either side of his head removing his helmet. His hair was held in a bun and Leona stared at the soft smile on his lips. A smile only she got to see, it was rare for Pantheon to remove his helmet, much less to have someone remove it for him. But he did not mind, not with her at least. With a nod of acknowledgment, he rose to his feet gently taking his helmet from her. He was a different man altogether when his helmet was off, and there was this certain shine to him that always attracted her.

She had seen the spearman at work, his cold and cruel eyes decimating battalions of men, a one-man army, that was how he had earned the title "Artisan of War." Yet, he was also kind, gentle and loving. She did not mind the killer within him, and it was merely a part of him she had grown accustomed to, and also come to love over the years. "Where do you plan on going, if you don't mind me asking."

"The Institute of War," she said proudly. The man acknowledged her decision with a thoughtful hum and took her hand in his knowing she would not relent in the pursuit of her freedom.

"We best hurry then," he said glancing to the pale moon watching over them. And so with a common goal the two set off, and Leona most of all did not look back at her home, she would always remain a Solari at heart, but never would she look back at the cold glassy reflection of the moon, only the rising sun awaited her. They walked in comfortable silence as the sun now beat against the thicket, their long shadows looming over the two as they traveled down the dirt path.

In good fortune a merchant stopped in his tracks offering the two warriors a lift, being the generous woman that she was, Leona paid the man handsomely. Pantheon had been quick to the rescue taking a few gold coins back scolding her silently. "Milady, we still have a ways to go before we arrive at the Institute, every coin is priceless." She nodded dropping them back in her small leather pouch as she handed it to Pantheon entrusting the money to him. Seeing this, the Merchant sneered quietly at the spearman but kept his mouth shut riding in brooding silence, still wishing for the extra gold coins the woman had given him.

"You always call me that," she murmured under her breath. "We're friends, Leona is fine." Her words had barely been audible due to the sound of the wheels reverberating against the dirt path and her quiet, gentle voice, but he heard her all the same.

"What was that?" he inquired acting clueless. Leona frown, certain he had heard her, but perhaps she was wrong, so she averted her gaze and stared at the perfect blue sky, not a cloud to be seen.

"It's nothing." A smug smile tugged at the spearman's lips, and he nodded. As the comfortable silence settled once more, it was short lived as the horses came to an abrupt stop and neighed in fright. Bandits surrounded the wagon, and Leona glanced at Pantheon, feeling sorry for the bandits. Ever since he had become her protector, he had rarely tasted the thrill of war, shield pounding against shield, the feel of his spear piercing through flesh, along with the honor and glory that came with every kill, stripping the men of their armor. He took a deep breath restraining himself, but his excitement was bubbling over, and he could no longer control himself as he drew his spear, leaving his shield strapped to his back, he would not be needing it.

After the carnage, they approached the town, the two dismounted the wagon and waved goodbye to the merchant thanking him from the bottom of their hearts. The merchant, however, was not as thrilled as they were, but thankful they had been there when the bandits appeared. The sun would be setting soon, and he counted the gold coins inside the pouch and stared at Leona who was already beginning to wander the crowded streets, her eyes large like a child's as she took in the outside world.

She waltzed up to one of the merchants and stared at the silver encrusted dagger picking it up with care. Leona was easy to set apart from the crowd, her silk attire and mesmerizing beauty made her unavoidable. "Ah, little lady," the merchant cried out watching the woman pick up the dagger. "That isn't for someone like you."

"Someone like me?" she clarified toying with the dagger. Pantheon towered over the Solari gently placing a hand on her shoulder. He glanced at the blade and its exquisite craftsmanship, such a priceless possession had no business in the hands of a lowly merchant and reaching over the counter, Pantheon grabbed the man's collar pulling him through the table. He held him above the ground, the man shaking in his boots as the Artisan of War's merciless eyes peered down into his.

"So this is how merchants make their living?" he scoffed. "Hiring bandits to kill and loot anyone who is foolish enough to travel this way, simply to steal and sell their wares, have you no honor?!" His booming voice attracted many eyes, and Leona stared at Pantheon, realizing he was still very much covered in blood from his last encounter. The merchant, however, glared back in defiance and before he could speak Pantheon dropped the man. "They are privileged to die at my feet." Leona set a hand on his arm, stopping the Artisan of War from raising his spear.

"Not here," she whispered. Men, women, and children alike stared, their eyes cold, glaring daggers at the merchant lying defeated in the middle of the street. His reputation had already been tarnished, and it was not their duty to slay the man. Pantheon nodded, his spear had only ever killed on the battlefield, and he sheathed his weapon turning his back.

"Be thankful the sun shines down upon you," the spearman growled, had Leona not intervened, he would have taken great pleasure in running the man through. Pantheon paid the Innkeeper for a room, and the man was quick to obey the warrior's wishes sliding over a key. She frowned at the interaction and followed suit as Pantheon climbed the stairs to the second floor. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"They're afraid of you," she spoke quietly. Pantheon chuckled and set a hand on her head.

"I am the Artisan of War, it is my duty to be feared, as long as you do not fear me, what others see of me does not matter in the least," he assured. After a half hour of pointless arguing over who should get the bed, Leona had finally given in taking the bed to herself. She had offered to share, but he would do no such thing. Resorting to his list of excuses he had crafted in a handful of seconds about his duties as her protector and others of the sort. In reality, though, Pantheon was just bashful at the prospect of sharing a bed with the lady he had sworn to protect, no matter how innocent she had made it sound, it seemed like a sin. She had made a point that he was no longer her protector, just her friend, but even then, he could not bring himself to accept her offer.

He had watched over her since he could remember, watching her blossom into the beautiful woman she was today. His admiration and adoration for her growing by the day. It seemed like a cruel irony, all he had ever wanted to be was her friend, but now, he was well past the line of friendship, an amicable friendship would not be enough to sate his love for her.

As the sun rose, Pantheon was already well awake, he stared at the sleeping figure on the bed and sighed, tilting his head to the side. He sat on the edge of the bed shaking the Solari gently, and with a groan, she awoke slapping his hand away. "The Institute of War awaits," he spoke slowly, hoping his words would reach her through her drowsiness. Those five words had her up and ready to go in record time, and the warrior chuckled grabbing their packs as they made for the road.

Soon enough, the dirt path was replaced with a cobblestone path, each slab carefully inserted into the ground. In the distance, a looming building greeted the two warriors, and Leona practically ran on ahead, the warrior watching her enthusiastic figure with a carefree grin. He caught up to her soon enough as they reached the threshold, and before she took a step inside, he placed a hand on her shoulder squeezing affectionately. "Are you ready?"

Pantheon could tell she was nervous, but she nodded anyway and together they entered the building taking in the elegant decor. As the two stated their purpose, they were separated as those called summoners thoroughly analyzed them. Her measurements were recorded, and the men and women talked amongst themselves as they had her stand still, fitting her with a proper set or armor. Lastly, they replaced her sword, and she swung it with ease, showing off her ability to wield a sword, and to her surprise, she was handed a shield which matched both her sword and attire and finally, she felt like a true born warrior. She had never wielded a shield before, but she could learn, Pantheon was after all a master of warfare. "Leona the Radiant Dawn," they named her, and with a proud smile, the Solari closed her eyes offering a bow to the summoners.

As she met up with Pantheon, she realized that little had changed about him, he still wore his battle-worn armor with pride, his spear and shield residing on his back. "How do I look?" She asked, her nervousness had long disappeared, and he could see the pride she held, her radiant beauty was enhanced by her armor, and had he not known better, he would have mistaken her for a goddess. He was left speechless but offered a polite smile with a nod of approval.

As the two entered the great hall, many eyes glanced their way, it was rare to see new faces, and Leona quickly caught on as she stared back. They spotted a table near the back of the great hall and made way towards it keeping away from the masses of champions crowding the center of the hall. As Pantheon passed two burly men, he watched without much thought until one of them tripped Leona, she fell with a quiet yelp, catching her weight on her hands. The bulkier of the two brothers stood, his axe gripped tightly between his hands as he swung at the Solari. She brought up her shield in time absorbing the impact, but the man was made for brute strength, and the impact caused her to let out a pained groan, falling to the ground.

Pantheon stepped forward, but the other brother stopped him spinning his axes daring for the man to intervene. The Artisan of War was ready to mop the floor with their blood, but Leona stared pleadingly at him not to do anything rash, this was her fight, and he relaxed lowering his spear as he watched his friend get bashed to the ground over and over again, amazed that every time she stood back up. His blood boiled, and he clenched his fist, digging his nails in the palm of his hand, his knuckles turning white. Finally, Leona dropped her shield, as she remained to lie on her side, her face painted with a pained expression staring at nothing in particular. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, and the Noxian commander knelt beside her, gripping locks of her hair as he forced her head off the ground. "Ain't even worth it," he scoffed kicking her sword away as the man walked away, his brother following suit and before long, the two were left alone in the great hall and Pantheon knelt beside her.

"Are you alright?" She did not answer but picked herself up, her disheveled hair cascading down the length of her face. She felt weak and defeated, her heart felt heavy and her eyes teary, but she held back. Part of her had wanted Pantheon to intervene, but the other part of her had wanted her to stand up and prove herself, but tonight had not been that night. She had just made a fool of herself. Pantheon, however, did not expect for her to push him away, but she did crawling to her sword as she gripped it loosely rising to her feet, she collected her shield walking out of the great hall.

Pantheon followed after her but was met with a withering glare, causing him to halt. She wasn't mad at the spearman, she just wanted to be alone, and he respected those wishes as he parted ways with her with a few words. "My side always welcomes you," he whispered. She nodded half-heartedly and arrived at her room collapsing on the other side. The sun had already set, and her fireplace was barren, the cold room, silent and empty. Her bed looked uninviting, and so did the looming shadows edging towards her. Although night had already fallen, she could not find the means to comfort herself or fall to slumber. So she opted to roam the halls taking time to soak what had transpired today. Had it been a real fight, that man would have killed her, he looked remorseless, in some ways he resembled Pantheon, but she knew Pantheon as a different man than most did.

Speaking of the devil, she froze as the two brothers turned the corner, walking towards her, the larger of the two was limping carrying his brother who was out cold, blood dripping from both his nose and mouth, they avoided all contact with the woman and kept on walking pretending she had not been there. She wanted to call out to the two, but residual fear rang in her ear, and she opted not to. A pair of large hands settled on her shoulders, and she jumped struggling with great force. Pantheon pulled her back against his chest wrapping both arms around her neck effectively trapping her against him.

"Did you do that to them?" She asked calmly holding onto his massive forearms.

"Perhaps, what do you think?" He asked suggestively, his breath hitting her ear. Leona awkwardly squirmed and closed her eyes, easing the tremor in her chest. "I agreed not to intervene, nothing beyond that," he growled anger flaring in his voice. He let go of the Solari and eyed her with care. Leona had changed out of her armor in a simple short-sleeved tunic that revealed the bruises on her arms that had nearly finished forming. "You should be resting."

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted, as Pantheon turned away, the Solari took hold of his arm. "Was this a mistake?" His brows furrowed and he held Leona's hand affectionately. The two ended up in his room sharing a bottle of ale in silence. There wasn't much tension, but a lot of hesitation on her part. She would glance up at the spearman from time to time, her lips parting, but whenever he glanced back, she would avert her eyes and take another sip.

"Tell me what's bothering you," he said softly, yet it still sounded like an order on his part and Leona set down her glass playing with the hem of her tunic nervously.

"Our first match is tomorrow..." she trailed off. "And after today, I'm not sure I'm ready. You're strong, and you've spent your whole life on the battlefields, but I'm...I," she sighed taking another drink to down her sorrows. "I know this is what I wanted but-"

"Potential. You have potential, one you have yet to discover, do not become discouraged because of one defeat, as long as you stand back up, nothing can stop you."

"You're just saying that," she chuckled softly.

"It takes courage and strength to stand back up after falling, but you did until the very end, you would put most men to shame," he grinned downing his glass in turn. "I will stand by you as I always have," he vowed softly rounding the table. Leona stood nervously, the butterflies in her stomach churning rapidly, she backed up slowly until her back hit the door, her hands resting on the handle, but Pantheon caught up in two large strides, taking hold of her wrists bringing them together between their chests. She could not escape forever, and tonight he would assure that she would not escape from his grasp again. He removed his helmet chucking it aside without a care in the world.

He leaned down nuzzling the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, and without a second to lose he trailed up to her lips. His rough and chapped lips captured her soft ones as he brought her in for a passionate kiss he had been craving for years. Leona finally relaxed into the embrace but held her breath, and he chuckled, smiling against her lips as he deepened the kiss. His arm slid around her waist, gently pulling her closer, he had longed for this day for as long as he could remember and now, he felt at peace, like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders, all his insecurities vanishing into thin air. The Solari pushed against his chest weakly, and he pulled away watching her catch her breath, he couldn't help but chuckle and place a kiss on her forehead. "You do know you're supposed to breathe right?"

"Shut up, I was nervous," she gushed staring at his chest.

"We will do this together," he whispered. "You're not alone." He gave her a quick kiss once again and opened his door reluctant to let her go, but she needed to rest for tomorrow's match, knowing she would get none if she remained with him. "Goodnight, Leona."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leona and Pantheon is definitely my OTP 10/10
> 
> While I already have these work(s) posted elsewhere, I will be slowly publishing them here because I'm rewriting a few + editing as they are old and well let's just say 3 years ago I didn't know how to English, and I still don't so you know :D
> 
> Anyway, tell me what you think, and I hope you enjoyed! ^^


	2. Thresh x Miss Fortune

"Fresh outta luck?" Graves taunted reloading his shotgun as he prepared to fire another round. Miss Fortune sneered shooting the outlaw a dirty look. She couldn't fight him at the moment, and she would have been able to take him down had blitz not been rushing towards her at full speed. She clicked her tongue gun spinning with graceful ease as she shot Graves trying to hinder his movements as she retreated.

Thresh was hurrying to her position, but Blitz beat him to it as he rushed past Graves who had just launched a smoke screen forward, immediately reloading his shotgun with a new type of ammo. Sarah coughed as her surroundings were engulfed in thick white clouds of smoke, leaving only her hands to be visible. She heard the loud winding of Blitz's metallic arm and cringed scurrying in the blinding smoke, heading in the direction of Thresh.

To her luck, the smoke parted with haste as Thresh cut through the thick white clouds with his hook, the smoke dissipating as he threw his lanterns. "Grab the lantern!" he barked, and without hesitation, her hands wrapped around the lantern and Thresh reeled her in, barely making it on time as Blitz's hand grazed her long flowing air. He caught her setting her down swiftly as he took a step in front of her protectively, waving his lanterns and hook slowly in a threatening manner.

Sarah cursed under her breath, rubbing her ankle through her boots massaging the sprain, she had taken a bad step reaching for the lantern, and she knew it would only hinder her team. "You're hurt," the warden sighed.

"No thanks to you," the bounty hunter countered in a sassy tone sitting down on the grassy floor, her back against the turret they were meant to defend.

"You little-"

"Say it, I dare you!" She snapped. The two began to bicker as the bounty hunter whipped out her pistols threatening to put a bullet in the back of his skull, but Thresh only egged her on, knowing the bullet would go right through him anyway. Graves stared with an amused grin adjusting his cigar as he took a long puff fist bumping his partner's metallic fist.

"Like taking candy from a baby," he whispered turning away from the bickering couple. Despite their countless arguments in public, the two got along relatively well, when they were not assigned on the same team.

"At least Sona knows when to keep her mouth shut!"

"She's a mute," the warden retorted, a flare of anger as his green flames rose.

"My point!" the bounty hunter hissed thrusting her finger at the spirit's chest. As Sarah opened her mouth to rant once more, Thresh's eye twitched, and he shoved a poro cookie in her mouth, hoping to shut her up for the time being.

"That's enough out of you," he barked. The woman glared at her support deciding to swallow her words along with the bits of cookie. To be frank, she had always wanted to try a poro cookie, but the vendor was strict when it came to his sales, and she was not one to beg. She huffed not wanting to admit that they were all she had expected them to be, but her pleased expression said otherwise. "Besides can Sona do this?"

Without warning he threw the bounty hunter over his shoulder with ease, marching away from their turret. Compared to him, she was still a slender woman with luscious curves, but not enough to charm him. Her looks alone could tempt a man's body and soul, but to him, it was merely an addition to her feisty personality and bold nature. "If you don't put me down, you're gonna be sorry mate!" Despite being a shameless flirt, she never flirted with him, her only words towards him were death threats and insults, but he quickly grew fond of her harsh words. He could not see himself flirting back, it was just not in him.

The rest of the game passed in a blur, as Sarah was unable to do much due to her sprained ankle, and with Thresh looming protectively over her the whole match, none dared to approach too boldly. "How is your ankle feeling?" He asked with genuine concern.

"Like shit," she answered bluntly, trying her best not to apply pressure to her throbbing ankle. "You know Sona would have eased the pain by now." The warden smirked knowing the game she was playing at, but he said nothing as he set his lantern on top of her head.

"Would you like me to ease the pain?" He asked in a dark undertone, a deep and creepy chuckle escaping his throat

"I'm good," she said quietly gently lowering his lantern from her head as she took an uncomfortable step back. The warden chuckled always enjoying the discomfort he brought her with his dark demeanor, and he could not blame her, the faint screams coming from his lantern eerily spooky for those not intuned.

Needless to say, she still thanked the warden for his services, they were still in public and so instead of taking the compliment to heart, he chuckled. "Someone has to babysit you," he retorted. In a fit of rage, she dug the heels of her boots into his foot, not quite getting the reaction that she wanted, but Thresh was amused all the same offering her a dark smile.

Once the coast was clear, however, she cleared her throat glancing from side to side as she removed her foot from his. "Would you like to eat together?"

"The Twin Sharks?" The warden suggested quite fond of the food they served there even though he did not need to eat, he could still smell, and taste, but nothing tasted the same in death. Everything had a coppery aftertaste, and although he did not mind too much, he had never told Sarah, pretending to enjoy his meals all the while enjoying her company. It was a childish charade, if he came out with the truth she probably wouldn't be fazed and just mock him, not that he would mind. But a part of him knew she would feel somewhat bad, and their evenings dining out would be no more. It was her sole excuse to spend time with the warden after a successful match, knowing she would not go any further.

"Sounds good." The two walked side by side in comfortable silence, one they had grown particularly fond of over the years. They did not need words to communicate, the benefits of being a good duo was the ability to tell the needs and wants of your partner. It was easy for the Warden to read Sarah's thoughts though, she was a straightforward woman who did not shy away from showing aggression. She was even worse around a pint of ale, she could hold her liquor well, but one glass too many and she would try to brawl with anyone in her way. The warden smirked recalling the day she kicked Jarvan's mug off the table challenging him to an arm wrestling competition, and the tipsy prince had accepted.

Needless to say, she most definitely did not win that round, and after the match passed out near the bathroom, hugging the wall for dear life, it was a rather pathetic sight, but he would never say that to her face.

"You're thinking about that day in the tavern aren't you?" she grumbled kicking at the pebbles on the ground as they took a sharp right on the cobblestone path.

"I do not know what you mean," he spoke calmly, his grin fading back into a stoic expression.

"Yeah sure-oh, they're closed," she sighed pulling the handle of the restaurant with no success. The sky was already a dark shade of midnight blue, and the moon was hidden behind the dark clouds, not a single star to light the night sky, except for Thresh's glowing presence. She kicked the door in frustration and stepped away taking out her pocket watch realizing how late it is.

"I suppose the match did last longer than expected," the ghostly figure hummed staring at his lantern. "Perhaps another day?" Glancing over at the bounty hunter, she looked unpleased and shook her head.

"My place?" She offered. The Warden offered a grim smile wondering if she had realized the words that came out of her mouth. Nothing would happen, nothing ever did happen, but that didn't stop him from giving the woman glances, his eyes trailing to her ankle.

"And stop applying pressure to your ankle, you'll make it worse," he snapped crouching in front of her, his back facing her.

"If you think I'm going to-"

"Sarah," he growled threateningly, and the woman scoffed leaning against him.

"Just so we're clear it's because I chose to, understood?"

"Sure," the warden agreed not wishing to enter into another verbal sparring with her. He knew where she lived like the back of his hand, he had spent countless days there, Sarah might be in denial about her affection towards the spirit, but there was no doubt that he was her closest friend before anything else. He had learned the enjoyment of playing cards with the woman, he had always frowned upon those who gambled their lives away playing cards, but he had to admit it was enjoyable until she became hostile to his 'luck' or so she called it. Ironic considering she was the lady of fortune, but some things are better left unsaid. He set her down as she unlocked the door to her home, letting herself in as the spirit followed leaving his lantern on the sofa.

He made himself at home, watching as Sarah removed her boots, checking her ankle it was slightly swollen, and she frowned. "Sarah, why don't you just relax?" He asked.

"Like a sprained ankle is going to keep me down, I've suffered worse, so shut your mouth and let me make you the best meal you'll ever have." He parted his ghostly lips to speak but realized he would only be wasting his time, so he swallowed his words and watched her slip on an apron. It was an appealing sight, not seeing the bounty hunter with her hat, it made her look less intimidating, and the apron...nothing screamed aggressive like a cute bunny and red stripes.

As the hour passed, he grew envious, wanting to feel human again, when she said she was going to make a great meal, she was not exaggerating, but the warden knew it would all taste like copper, despite the intoxicating smell of exotic spices. He had offered to help, but considering the spirit did not need to eat, his skills in the kitchen were less than average. Saving himself the embarrassment, the bounty hunter ordered for him to shut up and remain on the couch.

She finally invited him into the kitchen so that he could sit at the dining table, a simple but effective meal, wine, and spaghetti, had he been mortal, he would have probably fallen in love with her after the first bite. But the taste of copper met his tongue, and he ate casually mustering a thoughtful look as he stared at her. She looked timid, which had him on his guard, a shy woman was never up to any good, and he stopped eating setting his fork down. "What?"

"It's not good is it..." She genuinely sounded upset, and the warden groaned, she was a grown woman, she could handle the truth.

"Smells delicious. However, I cannot taste," Thresh said plainly, and to his surprise, she just nodded, he had expected her to at least throw a fit and call him out on all his past bullshit, but she didn't. She dug into her plate quietly, keeping her eyes on the glass of wine in front of her. Thresh sighed, glancing through the archway at his lantern, it was rare for her to do anything extravagant, she wasn't one to help others, or express her feeling except annoyance and anger, and now admittedly, the warden felt bad, uncertain he could fix the situation. She stood up abruptly, taking her plate and his as she made way to the sink.

She didn't make it very far, however, when she collapsed, managing to keep the plates from breaking. "This is why I told you to keep your weight off your feet, that's enough out of you," Thresh grunted rising from his seat, and he picked up the woman gently setting her on the sofa.

"I'm fine," she huffed. "Don't be so dramatic."

"She says after collapsing," he mocked. Disappearing into the kitchen as he reappeared with a wrapped ice pack handing it to her. She remained on the sofa pressing the ice pack to the swollen area on her ankle listening as Thresh washed the dishes, it was a hard sight to picture, but she tried her best smiling softly as she relaxed against the cushions. She heard him curse a few times as he dropped a plate.

"Hey! Don't break any more shit!" She yelled.

"Quiet woman!" he yelled back scrubbing the dishes with a bit too much force. Once the dishes had been set out to dry he returned to the sofa sitting beside his lantern staring at the woman on the other side of the sofa, ice pack pressed to her ankle. "Better?"

"How should I know?" She snapped. "It numbs the pain, should be better by tomorrow morning, I'll go see Soraka." The warden gave a nod of approval, gently massaging her ankle. Sarah winced but did not stop him, his touch was gentle, and he made sure not to apply too much pressure, he was the equivalent of an ice pack with his chilling touch, but without the stinging pain that followed. "You know, you could have done that sooner," she whined.

"What would have been the fun in that?" He chuckled darkly.

"You sadistic piece of shit," she huffed slapping his hand away. The warden caught her wrist, lowering her arm and gazing at her.

"It wouldn't be the same if I was different." And to his satisfaction, she nodded knowing this to be true, and she wouldn't settle for a gentleman who would always act kind and dote devoutly on her. She appreciated Thresh's dark sense of humor, he didn't speak often, but when he did, he was always witty and cunning, something she had grown fond of.

"And I'm the still the same woman," she growled gripping the hem of his collar as she pulled the warden towards her, smashing her lips to his. The kiss was not a heated one as she expected, his lips were cold, and the spirit kissed back smirking.

"Always taking what you want, you never change," he scoffed pulling away after giving her lips a quick peck, despite his words, the amused smirk tugging at his lips pleased at her words. "Never change."

"Well that's nice and all, but it's getting late, so get the hell out of my house," she sneered reaching for her revolvers. The warden nodded giving her a grim smile as he wrapped the chain of his hook and lanterns around his forearm as he stood, glancing back at the bounty hunter.

"You tease. I will see you tomorrow," the warden whispered, Sarah disappeared in the kitchen coming back with a paper bag as she shoved it in his arms leading him to the door. With a slam, the door closed behind him, and he smiled looking down at the paper box. Thresh had proven himself wrong tonight, something had happened, but his eyes focused on the paper box, and he sighed, she had given him leftovers, not that it would do him much good. He chuckled feeling a tinge of hope in his soul as he strode away rocking the paper box in his arms.


	3. Akali x Zed

"Do we really have to go again? We've been training non-stop for the past week, I'm tired," Akali whined throwing her kama blades into the ground, sharp edges piercing the soft dirt. Zed had to admit he was growing a bit weary himself, but the world was far from safe, and Akali knew this. Endurance even in the most perilous of times could prove fatal for one's survival.

"To discipline both your mind and body, you must exceed your limitations, unless you're scared?" he taunted knowing her fiery spirit would not overlook his petty taunt. It was unusual for the masked man to show his playful side, but with each cluck that came out of him, Akali yearned to sever his tongue from his mouth, but she held back taking a deep breath. He could see her composure slowly starting to crumble, and he chuckled throwing a shuriken her way as she dodged with ease, picking up her blades.

"This is why I hate you," she groaned flourishing her kama blades assuming a battle stance.

"Hate?" For a second the ruthless assassin relaxed, his arms dropping to his side as his hidden blades tucked back underneath his wrists. "What do you see me as?" He asked nonchalantly.

"The older brother I wish I never had," she joked throwing his own shuriken back at him.

"And Shen?" He questioned catching his shuriken, almost fearing the words that might leave her lips.

"The same, except he's nice and gentle, unlike you." Zed chuckled and nodded; he couldn't help the fact that he was her mentor and sparring partner. The assassin deeply appreciated her as a person, but he had no plans to be gentle during training. It was his job to portray himself as the enemy, and if it meant she might live a day longer, then it would all be worth it.

"Let's begin," he said sternly. With a nod, Akali charged at the man, her blades at the ready, and she struck him applying little to no force as Zed vanished into thin air as expected. She quickly turned kicking him away, but even that was just a distraction. With a quick backflip, she dodged his shurikens and smirked throwing a smoke bomb to the floor disappearing within the smoke. Zed smirked dropping down in the smoke himself, his shadows would prove useless in the smoke anyway, at least she was getting clever, but he could still sense her movements through the darkness blinding him.

He charged at Akali, his hidden blades striking right at her, she grabbed his forearm, forcing his arm down, as his blade cut through smoke, and he frowned as her knee connected to his chest, sending him rolling against the ground. He grunted picking himself up quickly throwing three shurikens in an arc as he recovered, hearing the sound of fabric tearing. Assuming he had hit her, he charged towards the figure and grabbed Akali by her waist, throwing her against the floor, but she was quick to retaliate and kicked his chest hard. It took both assassins a second to recover, and once they had, the smoke began to clear as the two resumed their sparring session.

He drove her out of her smoke cloud, all three of his shadows charging at her, she was backed into a tree and huffed turning around. Akali propelled herself off the bark, looming above Zed her kama blades at the ready. Unfortunately, Zed had predicted her movements and threw a shuriken, knowing she could not efficiently dodge in mid-air. She managed to shift her body only slightly, avoiding the shuriken just barely, but a pained groan escaped her as a shuriken hit her from behind and she cursed staring at the shadow behind her who now vanished into thin air.

As she hit the ground, she picked herself up quickly, parrying the next round of shurikens. She felt a presence behind her and ducked avoiding the shadow's blade, it felt unfair being outnumbered, they may have been just shadows, but they still hurt. Akali had grown weary over the past few days, and now even more so, as her breath were deep and labored, observing all of her enemies. She grabbed her left shoulder, staring at the blood pooling in her hand, shurikens may be small, but they still cut deep. She huffed and flourished her kama blades as she rushed the assassin tired of his little games, she missed to see the shadow form on her left and yelped as it grabbed her leg throwing her aside. Akali stared at Zed watching in the distance, his arms folded as she rolled a few paces finally coming to a stop against a tree and sat up staring at the shadows who disappeared into the ground. "Great," she breathed.

Once she rose to her feet, another shadow emerged from the tree, her reaction, unlike the others, was slow, and the shadow pierced right through her abdomen, and then all went quiet as she dropped to her knees clutching her stomach. Zed's eyes widened, and he called off his shadows as he rushed over, he expected her to parry the blow, but it seems as though he had miscalculated.

"This is why I didn't want to fight you," she growled rising to her feet. The assassin said nothing as she threw her arm over his shoulder and wrapped an arm around her waist, hoisting her up into his arms. "I can walk, you idiot," she groaned hitting his chest.

"It will be quicker this way," he said quietly, sinking into the shadows as he reappeared in front of her door, kicking it open. Zed set her on her bed, and Akali groaned sitting up, applying pressure to her wound, it was not the first time either of them had gotten injured, but he had not inflicted the wound himself, and he knew not whether any vital areas had been struck. Akali noticed his rigid posture as he prepared a needle, and she rolled her eyes.

"It's just a flesh wound, and I've hurt you plenty of times before," she reassured but frowned when she received no answer. With Zed now ready to tend to her wounds, he folded a leather belt and handed it to his fellow assassin. She scowled and grabbed the belt biting down against the material. She was thankful Zed was a swift and precise, she could feel the stinging pain of the sterilized needle, but he worked quickly, and the pain was bearable. The sheets curled under the grip of her fingers, her groans and whimpers silenced by the belt as she gritted her teeth against the leather, forgetting to breathe altogether. Wrapping a bandage around her waist, Zed looked up as Akali tossed the belt on the floor, looking anything but pleased.

"I'm done," he nodded to himself gathering the bloodied cloth and medical supplies, but before he could leave, Akali called out to him.

"Can you stay with me, please?" She pleaded quietly.

The assassin sighed but shook his head, exiting her room in deep thought. Zed knew the feelings the assassin harbored for him, she was in denial at all times, but he noted the way her cheeks heated up around him, and how timid she could become. It was unlike her, she had a rough personality around others, she showed no restraint around Shen and Kennen, but around him, it always felt like she was holding back. The only time where she was not wary around him was when they were training, and it was a nice change. He wouldn't say that she didn't take most things seriously, but he had tried to reciprocate her feelings on multiple occasions, giving her the opportunity to tell him properly how she felt, but she never did.

She always ended up rejecting him, one way or another, to the point where he even questioned whether or not she held affection for him, but those were droplets of doubt wishing to form into a river, and he would never allow that happen. Zed knew he could take the first step and tell her, but he wasn't the type to show emotion, and he also feared her rejection, but more than that, he would not sacrifice his sole friendship for something as futile as love. He may have called it futile, but in truth, the thought had been creeping up his mind more than he wanted.

Zed had given her a day to recover knowing the wound was still not fully healed, but it would be one of the burdens Akali would have to bear. He knocked on her door, inviting himself in as she slipped on her top piece, her weapons resting on the table beside her. "Are you ready?" He asked. She nodded narrowing her eyes at him as she picked up one of her kama blades.

"You would think that after three years, you would wait for me to answer before barging in," she grumbled, and the assassin rolled his eyes, they had treated each other's wounds on countless occasions, her false sense of privacy was no concern of his, considering she was residing in his dwelling.

"At least I knocked," he argued. It was now her turn to roll her eyes, and Akali sighed picking up her second kama blade as she held them aloft following the assassin outdoors.

"What kind of mission is this?" Akali asked, anticipation building in her fluttering heart, she was craving a good fight.

"Transportation and elimination," he hummed checking on his hidden blades. The two waited at their rendezvous point, Zed standing tall, his arms crossed over his chest, as Akali took the liberty of leaning against a tree, occasionally checking her nails. "They're late," Zed hissed crouching as he pressed a hand to the ground feeling and listening for any vibrations. Akali's gaze wondered amongst the shadows of the trees, the moon softly peaking from over the canopy, light peering past the leaves. Then, a small shadow leaped from one branch to the other, and she drew her blades looking at Zed, who instantly stood unsheathing his hidden blades as they regrouped.

"We've got company," Akali whispered, pressing her back to Zed's as they tread lightly in a circle observing their surroundings. Shurikens flew out from the darkness parried effortlessly by Akali, and she frowned knowing they were fellow assassins.

"I counted 7," Zed whispered reaching for his shurikens.

"Great, I'll take the three, master of shadows," she mocked dashing into the darkness of the canopy, the assassin sighed knowing it was too late to go after her as four assassins dropped down from the trees around him. Akali flourished her kama blades rushing at the first assassin she saw, her blades missing the target entirely. She turned swiftly avoiding the sword and threw a kunai to zone off the enemies as she repositioned herself amongst the trees.

She dispatched one of the assassins with ease but had a feeling he must have been the weaker link because the other two read her like an open book. The temptation to drop her smoke bomb loomed on her, but she had a feeling she would be even more at a disadvantage then. These were not normal assassins they were highly skilled. For every blow she barely landed, a new cut appeared on her arm, and he hissed retreating behind the protection of the thicket knowing they were messing with her. She wondered how well Zed was faring considering he was dealing with more than three, but she was heavily punished for letting her thoughts wander as a shadow loomed over her from above, the assassin's blade connecting with her shoulder. She ducked in time, the edge unable to dig deeper as she rolled out of the way, evading the next blow throwing another pair of kunais scurrying to her feet.

She decided to end this quickly with the hopes of regrouping with Zed and charged at the two assassins, knowing one would strike for her tendon and the other from above. She jumped avoiding the first hit, her kama blade catching the second sword rending the weapon useless, and with her free hand swung to behead the assassin. However, a sword came out of nowhere, the impact so strong her blade went flying leaving her hand throbbing from the surprise attack. She fell awkwardly, hitting the ground with a loud thud as an assassin loomed over her. She rolled over quickly evading the blow, and relaxed as the man staggered, Zed towering over the assassin, his hidden blades retracting from the man's neck, as he fell on the patches of dry leaves. Two of Zed's shadows formed a protective circle around Akali, and the other two assassins had been smart to retreat into the shadows for the time being.

Akali stood up, and the two made a run for it, knowing these enemies were too much to handle when they were so outnumbered. "We need to isolate them, and take them out, one by one," Zed ordered.

"Yeah," she breathed feeling a sharp sting of pain taking her by storm as she glanced down, the wound on her abdomen opening once more. "Fuck," she cursed under her breath, glancing over her shoulder, her eyes barely registering the shadows chasing after them.

"Trap," Zed whispered as he abruptly turned around readying his hidden blades, two shadows forming beside him as he prepared to stall the enemy. Akali glanced back at him with a worried expression but kept running until she was confident the enemy would not come after her when they could quickly pick off Zed. Well, he wouldn't make it easy for them. Akali reached inside her pouch pulling out trap wire as she went to work expertly tying it around the trees, the moonlight did not shine in these parts of the woods, and the wires were thin enough to go undetected but still sturdy enough to stop an incoming enemy. She crouched down and pressed her ear to the ground, hearing Zed's footsteps loud and clear, and she stood up hiding amongst the darkness.

Zed himself did not have to pass the wire as he entered the shadows ducking underneath the wire as he reappeared on the other side. Akali waited patiently until the wire triggered, and she dashed in executing the two assassins with ease, leaving only three more to dispatch. Zed rejoined with Akali and groaned at her open wound. "I don't have anymore trap wire," she whispered in small breaths. "And I'm starting to lose too much blood." Zed wrapped an arm around her waist helping her settle against the trunk of a tree holding her hand gently.

"Anymore than this and you'll pass out from blood loss, I'll handle the rest," he whispered softly, caressing her knuckles with his thumb. "Do you trust me?"

"Don't' ask stupid questions," she groaned pressing a hand to her abdomen. Zed nodded and stood to let go of her hand, and their fingers brushed as he drew his hidden blades disappearing into the shadows. "Don't leave me," she breathed, her hand reaching for the vanishing shadow, but he was already gone, and she gripped her kama blade with her free hand, prepared to fight if needed. The moon grew cold as the breeze picked up, the cold nipping at Akali's paling features, the only thing keeping her awake as she dozed in and out of consciousness. She didn't know how much time had passed, or how long Zed had been gone for, but she sucked in a breath and waited.

As she slowly drifted back into unconsciousness, a branch cracked and then she was wide awake, gripping her kama blade until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes darted in every direction, but she did not know where the sound came from, she didn't dare speak up either. With a sigh, Zed appeared before her, critically wounded and bloodied from his fight. They had been a challenge, but he would have sooner died, than let them kill his partner. He dropped down on his knees in front of her, and Akali dragged her knees to her chest giving him room as he sighed again, resting his head on her knees.

"You're hurt," she whispered staring the bloody gashes and torn fabric. Zed didn't answer as the two were plunged in tense silence, Akali fearing that his heart had stopped beating until he spoke.

"Take off my mask," he ordered. Akali did as commanded, pulling a hand away from her abdomen and releasing her kama blade as she reached for his mask if this is how she died, she did not mind. Zed never allowed anyone to take off his mask, and even though the assassin was near death, she could not help the giddy feeling in her gut as she took off his helmet. She was met with dark eyes peering at her, his lips in a faint smile as he picked himself up, supporting his weight against the tree with one arm. Zed mustered up the rest of his strength to gently cup Akali's cheek as he kissed her and then collapsed in her arms with a content sigh.

Her chest began moving quickly and unevenly, as beads of water dropped on the back of his neck. "Don't cry," he cooed. "I'm not going to die, not when I have lost time to make up for," he assured holding her hand. "Or do you not trust me?"

"Don't ask stupid questions," she mumbled between sobs, and he nodded caressing her knuckles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boop ♥


	4. Tryndamere x Ashe

The grass was wet with dew and Ashe smiled softly checking on the precious flowers growing peacefully in the garden. It was rare for anything to flourish in this frigid weather, but she knew it would not last as winter frost began to settle slowly, the Freljord was unforgiving. She came to the garden often to look at the flowers, the only ones she had ever known in her life were the crystal blossoms the craftsmen of the Avarosan tribe had gifted her. They were beautifully carved, but there was a certain charm that they lacked; they did not grow, did not wither, and so fragile, they resided in a padded vase, only to be looked upon with a longing gaze.

"So this is where you were?" A rough voice spoke, and the young woman glanced up at the barbarian, her gaze cold and diligent.

"How many times have I told you, don't step on the flowers, you brutish man." Tryndamere's lips twitched upwards unable to hide his amused grin as the woman scolded him.

"They're just flowers, they'll die eventually," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, and Ashe parted her lips to speak but quickly closed them letting out a deep sigh, glancing back to the flowers.

"You'll die too eventually, would you rather die sooner than later?" She asked. The barbarian nodded understanding her point now, but the difference between him and a flower was that he would kill any and all things that came his way until he either came out on top or perished.

"And you?" he asked knowing he had avoided her question.

"I have a duty to uphold, I can't die yet," she whispered her knuckles gently caressing the petals. The barbarian knelt beside her and plucked a flower.

"Flowers eventually wither, but they regrow, nature is not so easily conquered, we humans, however, are different. There is only one you, and if you die, someone like you will never come again," he whispered crushing the flower in his hand.

"There are plenty of men and women who can replace me, I'm not special," she hummed rising to her feet, deciding to ignore the flower her future husband had butchered. Tryn said nothing watching the woman walk away, she had missed the point of his little spiel, but perhaps she did not want to hear it either.

"Wait," he called out, watching her stiffen as she glanced over her shoulder. "Are you saying that anyone could just marry me then?" The soon to be queen rolled her eyes and went on her way, keeping her lips shut. Tryndamere rose to his feet catching up to her, his hand firmly gripping her wrist as he spun her around. "Answer."

Ashe slapped his hand away staring him down. "This is an arranged marriage, not a lover's dilemma," she mumbled. "It holds no special meaning, except for the political effect it will have on my people, I never wanted to get married," the archer finally admitted quietly turning her back on the barbarian. This time Tryndamere did not stop her looking down at the hand she had slapped away, he knew she had a point, it was rare for love to keep couples together if he could even call this love. He had been the one to propose, not out of love, but rather a necessity. 

He would have agreed with the archer had he not felt differently, but he had slept with countless women before, drowning himself in lust, and this was different. He had prided himself to be a man who cared not what others thought of him, but as much as he tried to deny it, he cared. He cared what the cold woman saw him as, just another suitor, or perhaps just a barbarian. He clenched his hand into a fist and sighed, but the archer was right, duty came first.

Ashe sighed as she entered her chambers, feeling more than a little upset over what she said. She had wholly disregarded his feeling calling their marriage a bluff — no special meaning. Those words echoed in her mind, and she groaned, but at least she had been honest with him, she never wanted to get married. She didn't want to become a queen, but it would soon become one of her many responsibilities. She picked up the bottle of wine resting on the table and sighed sitting down, pouring herself a glass.

The room was dead silent, except for the sound of the winter breeze rattling the shutters, she poured herself another glass contemplating her actions, she would need to watch her tongue from now on, her future husband would be an excellent place to start. As she downed her third glass, she leaned forward resting her elbows on the table, another sigh escaping her lips as she slid the glass across the table, resting her head on the cold surface, helping her sober up.

She wanted to drown in alcohol and pass out, letting next day's worries vanish into the void, but as she poured herself a fourth glass, she glanced to see Tryndamere looming above her. "How did you get in here?" she asked surprised, knowing she had locked the door, and the guards were not to let anyone in, even their future king.

"You left the window open," he answered casually, staring at the two bottles of wine on the table. "Getting drunk without me," he trailed off. The woman huffed downing her fourth glass as she grumbled for him to leave, her words slightly slurred from the alcohol, but her tongue still sharp and icy. As the frost archer poured herself a fifth glass, the barbarian stopped her, his hand cupping hers gently. "That's enough, I wouldn't want your men to see you drunk," he spoke slowly making sure she could comprehend his words.

"I'm fine," she whined shaking his hand away. However, the barbarian was not having it as he grabbed her glass of wine and downed it, followed by the bottle itself. "You monster!" she shouted. Tryndamere growled, almost losing his temper at her irrational behavior, but calmed seeing her face, she looked lost, and as much as she believed in the notion of duty, she was not showing it.

"That's enough," Tryndamere repeated softly taking her hand in his. She did not push him away this time as she stood, holding onto the table for extra support. He led her to the large bed accommodating her chambers, sitting her down on the edge as he took off her heels. She remained silent, her face flushed from the alcohol, she did not try to kick him or spit fire at him. Her calmness disturbed him greatly considering it was just the two of them alone. In public, she was always poised, but when together, the woman had a fiery temper and was not afraid to wield it. However, she was docile for the time being, and he would take advantage of that as the barbarian helped her settle under the covers lying down next to her, an arm wrapped loosely around her waist.

The light of dawn awoke the barbarian, as he had forgotten to close the curtains but he didn't mind, it was best to leave early anyhow. Ashe awoke not long after, the unfamiliar warmth already vexing her. "Get off my bed," she groaned sitting up, her withering glare on him, her messy hair cascading down her face as she sat up. 

"Don't worry I didn't take advantage of you," the man joked throwing his legs over the side of the bed as he rose to his feet, stretching. He turned in time to catch the small blush painting itself on her rosy cheeks and smirked. She shook her head slowly clicking her tongue as she massaged her forehead thankful Tryn had stopped her from consuming any more than she already had. Despite having slept soundly, she was exhausted, the dark circles under her eyes proving her case.

She was too exhausted to chew Tryndamere out and just sighed watching as he strolled to the window peering out the foggy glass. Ashe took that time to get out of bed running fingers through her loose and messy hair, her eyes gazing over the glass of wine, her stomach churning lightly. "I'll meet you in the courtyard," she said slowly gathering the shattered pieces of her dignity, and the barbarian nodded leaving the room. Once gone, Ashe sighed taking a seat on the edge of her bed, mulling over yesterday night.

Freshening up and slipping on a new dress, she made way to the courtyard, making sure she looked as presentable as any other day, she kept her head down, to hide her face as she strolled through the gardens, it would be her last time residing on this estate and she would surely miss the flowers. She crouched down, uncaring if her dress touched the ground as she gently squeezed the stem, deciding whether or not to pluck the flower.

"Don't bother, it won't last very long," the familiar rough voice spoke. Ashe rose, not bothering to glance over her shoulder nodding as she knew he was right.

"I'm ready to leave," she breathed glancing up to the white sky as she tugged on her mantle, the cold breeze nipping at her cheeks. As she turned around, Tryndamere held a dozen flowers, their stems tied together with a light blue ribbon, and Ashe frowned.

"I preserved them with wax," he spoke, holding them aloft waiting for the archer to take them. Seeing no movement from her, he grabbed her hand forcing it open as he placed the small bouquet in her hands. She finally snapped back to reality, thanking the barbarian as she examined the flowers. Tryn couldn't quite comprehend her fascination with flowers, but he didn't have to, merely knowing she liked them was good enough.

Arriving at the carriage, Tryndamere dismissed the guard, who would be seated with them, with him around her safety wasn't much of a concern. He held out his hand for her to take as he helped her inside the carriage climbing in after her, once comfortably settled, they began on their way to the Avarosan citadel. "Did you ever want to become a king?" Ashe asked nonchalantly staring out the window, her cheek resting on the palm of her hand. He could see her eyelids drooping every so often, drowsiness knocking at her door, and so for the sake of keeping her awake, he answered.

"No, the thought never came to me until I crossed you, it seemed like a win-win at the time," he trailed off, recalling the first time he had met her.

"At the time?" She asked a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"The burden of responsibility, being married to the Avarosan warmother," he chuckled.

"I never wanted to be queen, much less a leader, and I remember how peaceful the world seemed when I was young and ignorant, scouting the woods for anything I could aim my bow at, I remember those days well, and I miss them. Now, I can't even walk freely without having guards constantly at my heels, it's exasperating." Ashe glanced at the barbarian and sat up properly, her brows furrowed. "May I ask why?"

"Why what?" The barbarian asked, his eyes trailing from hers to the window.

"Why throw away your freedom for me, or my people?" The man shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "You have no obligation to go through with this marriage if you want you could leave at this very moment, and no one would stop you." To this, Tryndamere frowned, she had a point, not of her guards could take him on, and Ashe might have been able to if she had her bow and quiver, but she was defenseless except for his protection and those of the guards around her. He did question why, perhaps it was the feeling of being needed, of having somewhere to call home since he had lost the ones he could call a family.

"Because I felt like it," he answered vaguely, the answer not satisfactory to the queen's ears. Tryndamere eyed her carefully, He would not admit it, but he owed her more than she imagined, she saved him from self-destruction, she gave him refuge, accepted him, as a friend and perhaps more. It's true he had no obligation to marry her, but he knew that little would oppose her rule where he to stand at her side, foe or not. With conflicts expanding day by day, despite Ashe's peaceful efforts to bring the war to an end, the barbarian knew better. Her methods were sane and noble, but nothing about this world was sane.

The frost archer tensed as an almost transparent spirit flew past the window screeching, the warning loud and clear. The carriage suddenly sped up, guards shouting to each other. "Bandits," the archer whispered, reaching for her non-existent bow and quiver. The barbarian smirked at her warrior spirit still intact.

"Were you planning on fighting in heels and a dress?" he asked calmly, his hands firmly planted on the wall and seat of the carriage as he held himself steady. Ashe scoffed and shot him a quick smirk.

"It wouldn't be the first time." To that, Tryndamere smirked back, and the carriage eventually slowed to a stop, and the barbarian shot her a reassuring look as he stood up exiting the carriage first, holding his hand out for Ashe, knowing she wouldn't remain in the carriage anyway. The woman was too stubborn to listen to him. A dozen bandits had surrounded the carriage, the guards nowhere in sight. The barbarian stood protectively in front of his partner counting the bandits, and he could sense some hiding within the trees and knew there were too many of them to fight and keep Ashe safe at the same time.

"When I tell you to run, run," he grumbled unsheathing his blade, holding it loosely in one hand, estimating how long it would take him to butcher these cowards.

"I'm not leaving you," she spat.

"I wasn't asking," he spoke firmly, pushing the frost archer in the direction of the woods behind them. "Go." Biting her bottom lip, she turned and made her way into the woods.

"Catch her, alive!" one of the bandits ordered, and Tryndamere wasted no time in dispatching the man, fury once again pumping through his veins. He could only fend off so many bandits at once and growled as two managed to bypass him, heading after Ashe. He let out a terrifying roar, cutting his way through the bandits, hoping he had bought enough time for his queen.

Ashe groaned coming to a stop as she broke the heels off her shoes slipping the newly formed flats back on, it was much easier to run in these, but as the spirit hawk flew past her again screeching she knew bandits were on her trail. She picked up the hem of her dress and with force ripped the fabric in a sloppy slit, allowing for more movement. Her heart pounded against her chest knowing she would be of no use without her bow or quiver. She was a mighty fine hunter and warrior, but in the end, she was nothing without her arsenal, the thought upset her more than anything.

The least of her worries fell on Tryndamere knowing the man would come out relatively unscathed, and he was an unstoppable force once his fury kicked in. Ashe breaths caught in her throat as she made the mistake of looking behind, two bandits emerging from the thicket. There was still room between her and them, but she wasn't fast enough to outrun them as one of the bandits threw a magical rope, the material slithering around her ankles, and the archer gasped falling to the ground with only her hands to shield herself.

It didn't take long for the bandits to catch up to her, and they laughed staring at the dirt covered queen. "Didn't think it would be this easy." However, Ashe never planned to make it easy for the two as she slid her bound legs against the muddy, icy ground, sweeping one of the bandits off his feet. He fell with a loud grunt while the other reached for Ashe, but she bit his hand, scratching his face, her long and trimmed nails digging fiercely into his flesh.

"Cunt!" The bandit swore kicking the queen hard as she tumbled back with a groan, her face hitting the mud, her nose bloody from the impact. She sat up only to be forced back into the dirt, the other bandits pinning her wrists above her head, his blade digging into the palms of her hand and into the dirt, her screams echoing the woods, much to their pleasure. The frost archer finally calmed down, holding back the tears that threatened to spill as she ignored the pain coursing through her body. The bandits took a moment to recover, glaring at the queen debating whether to bring her back alive or not.

They were not given to chance to decide, however, as Tryndamere let loose a raging battlecry beheading one of the men. The bandit who had been holding down Ashe's wrists quickly let go, pulling out his blade from the queen's hand, earning a pained groan from the woman. The bandit held the knife aloft expertly playing with the dagger, daring for the barbarian to come at him, but as Tryndamere swung, his blade cut through both the dagger and the man effectively severing the top half of his body from the bottom half.

"Fuckers," he spat, kicking the body his fury quickly calming as Ashe sat up. "You look like hell," he commented, but she didn't reply to his comment, her gaze settled on her bloody hands. Tryndamere knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his large one as he cupped her face, brushing the dry mud off her cheek, but only smeared it in the process. She looked like a mess, but even disheveled she still managed to look charming. The carriage had been ransacked and the horses slaughtered, not that Tryndamere wanted to head in that direction anyway, this was bandit territory and returning to the scene of the crime would be dumb.

With the barbarian's help, the frost archer rose to her feet, her legs wobbly and her knees buckled, but she remained upright, taking slow, careful steps. The magical rope had withered away as its owner had been brutally killed, all traces of magic vanishing into thin air. The two remained silent as they walked side by side, Tryn keeping a firm hold on her hand, to keep her from falling or worse. The ground was slick with ice, and her broken shoes were meant for anything but this weather. As they ventured further into the woods, they made sure to keep north as the hawk spirit guided their way. The sound of running water caught their ears, and Tryn's eyes widened as he picked up his pace, dragging Ashe behind him, and they emerged from the thicket, greeted by the sight of a waterfall.

"Go wash your hands," the barbarian ordered. Ashe nodded obediently dropping to her knees plunging her hand in the frigid water. Rubbing the mud and dirt from her wounds, the winter water biting at her skin, now that she was still, she let out a restless breath, an extended cloud of white vanishing through the air. Tryndamere crouched not too far away from her, rubbing the grime and blood from his arms, noticing the small shudder from the woman next to him, goosebumps rising up her arms. He stood to offer her his cloak when voices sounded in the distance, and he glanced at Ashe, a worried look on her face as she rose to her feet.

"They're closing in on us," he whispered, jumping into the water. The frost archer's eyes widened as he held a hand out to her, and she hesitated knowing she would freeze to death in those waters, but as the voices drew closer, she put her trust in the man before her and jumped in, a loud gasp escaping her lips at the sudden change in temperature. Despite the momentary shock of the frigid waters, she placed her hand in his and gritted her teeth together as they moved up the stream ducking underneath the waterfall, water pouring mercilessly on both their bodies.

Unfortunately for them, the waterfall held no secret cavern for them to take refuge in and so they remained hidden under the pouring winter water. "They couldn't have gone far, they're on foot," the bandit growled, and from the water, Ashe could make out faint silhouettes, half a dozen men on horseback as they nodded and split into three directions. She let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline in her system preventing the cold from getting to her, but she knew it would not last long. And she was right, as the bandits stalked away from their position, Tryndamere let out a silent sigh as he guided them out from underneath the waterfall, Ashe shaking like a leaf.

"N-never again," she breathed letting go of his hand as she hugged herself, teeth clattering, and messy locks of hair clutching the sides of her face.

"Would you rather have your head on a stake?" She shook her head, and he sighed climbing out of the water and onto the shore as he extended his arm out, effortlessly pulling her out. As the wind blew on her half exposed body, she shivered shutting her eyes, and her hands provided no warmth whatsoever. "The sun will set soon," Tryndamere spoke, glancing up at the sky. "And so they will give up the search till tomorrow morning. It's dangerous to prowl the woods at night, especially in the Frejlord."

"And us?" Ashe asked glancing at her hands, the open wounds still bleeding but much less than before. Trynd ripped the hem of his cloak into ribbons and glanced up at the archer.

"You don't think I can take on a bear?" He asked offended wrapping the archer's wounds tightly with the fabric.

"N-no, I never...said that," she breathed through chattering teeth. As they ventured deeper into the forest in search of a refuge, Tryndamere smirked at the small cavernous area, hidden by layers of shrubs.

"We'll spend the night here, any objections?" the barbarian asked, and Ashe shook her head, knowing she had a million and one reasons to object, but they did not have a choice. Inside the cavern, Tryndamere began stripping much to the archer's discomfort as she averted her eyes, knowing his body was corded with muscles. She heard the clank of metal, and the man removed his battle armor, leaving him shirtless in only his trousers.

"Undress," he said in a deep husky coarse voice, and the woman stared at him in disbelief, color flushing her pale cheeks.

"I will do no such thing!" she retorted ignoring the numbness spreading throughout her body from the cold.

"Dear gods woman, do you want to freeze to death?" He asked. She shook her head, curling in a ball as the barbarian glanced at her, he caught her reddened face and cleared his throat realizing what he was asking of her. It was the first time he had seen her so flustered, and he grumbled under his breath, turning his back to her. "I won't look, you can keep your shift on, just take off your dress and mantle," he said softly. With reluctance, Ashe removed her torn dress setting it aside to dry as she glanced at the barbarian every so often, his back turned to her, his gaze focused on the wall.

She couldn't help but stare at his back, well-defined muscles greeting her eyes, his arms folded, foot silently tapping the ground. She didn't want to call out that she was finished. The shift barely reached down to her mid-thigh, and she grumbled under breath, covering the back of her thighs as she sat down curling in a ball, her eyes trailing on Tryndamere's figure.

Ashe wasn't usually shy when it came to her body, her servants dressed her most mornings, sometimes stayed with her while she took a bath, to socialize, or for them to do her hair. But this was her future husband, and the jokester that Tryn could be had her on edge, she was not ready to receive any snide remarks about her body or otherwise, not from him of all people.

"I'm done," she grumbled under her voice, trying to hide how reluctant she sounded. But as the barbarian turned around, she sucked in a breath holding it in, her heart sinking in her chest as it failed to beat on time. The cavern was silent, except for the small rustles of movements as he knelt before Ashe, his touch light on her shoulder.

"You're going to freeze to death," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, but Ashe huffed glancing up at him.

"I'll be fine don't worry about me," she whispered.

"You're not fine, it's fucking cold, and no offense, but you're a slender woman, hardly any fat on you," he teased pinching her arm gently.

"Are you calling me skinny?" she joked.

"Yes so come here," he grunted, forcing the slender woman into his arms. She didn't resist as she melted into his arms, enjoying the warmth of his skin, he was much larger than her, his arms corded with muscles tightly wrapped around her. In the midst of their comfortable silence, Tryndamere cleared his throat. "To answer your earlier question, I threw away my freedom for you, not for who you are, but the person you want to become, I admire you."

Ashe parted her lips to speak but found nothing of value as she closed them again. She thought for a moment, the earnest reply in his answer shaking her heart, his voice had never been so soft, so vulnerable, so honest, and finally, she parted her lips once more to express her honest feelings to him. Darkness crept into the cavern as the sun finally set, and the barbarian captured her lips, silencing what words would have come out of her mouth. "Don't speak," he whispered against her lips, and she did not speak as his husky voice sounded out an order rather than a suggestion.

As their lips parted and darkness consumed the bits of natural light that remained, the two were plunged in a cold winter night awaiting the arrival of daylight, but all seemed distant as they melted into each other's embrace keeping each other warm as they slept through the night, not a word to be shared. Morning roused them, light glimmering through the empty spaces of the bushes, beating on the two tired souls. Ashe awoke first, unable to pull out of the barbarians tight embrace, her dress now seeming miles away.

She could not muster up the courage to wake him, in fear of what he might say, or might not say. She had much she wanted to say but wasn't sure how it would all come out if it even could. Her thoughts had not had the time to organize themselves properly, and if she spoke, she was afraid she would become an incoherent mess of mumbles. Ashe sighed resting her head back down on his chest, only to notice a pair of eyes trained on her, and she mentally cursed herself. He was awake.

"Get off," he said roughly, and Ashe stared at the lack of softness in his voice, it was like he had become an entirely different man. She wasted no time pulling away from him as she stood up backing towards the other wall of the cavern, and she wondered if yesterday had just been a dream, but the feels of his lips on hers, she would not-no could not forget the amount of passion and love it held, and it felt so real.

As they emerged from the cavern fully dressed, Tryndamere led the way, striding with purpose as Ashe followed at his heels, the tension thick enough for a blade to cut through it. "Am I supposed to pretend like it never happened?" She asked quietly, and the barbarian stiffened, keeping his eyes forward. Tryndamere was reluctant to answer, a part of him wanted to play dumb, tell her that she was mistaken, and nothing did happen, but what good would come of that. He shot a glance in her direction, his gaze meeting hers and he stopped.

"Is it wrong for a husband to love his wife? Or," he trailed off, for the first time looking uncertain whether or not he should speak. "Did I overstep my boundaries?" Ashe quickly shook her head staring at him long and hard.

"I didn't think-know that's how you felt," she laughed lightly, putting the barbarian on edge. "I'm sorry I lost the flowers." Tryndamere's eyes widened, and he almost burst out laughing wondering how she could think of something so silly in this situation. But Ashe looked conflicted, words failing to leave her tongue and she nervously gulped her hands clamping onto each other for dear life. She didn't have to give her response now, or perhaps any time soon. He closed the distance between them, cupping her face gently as he leaned down, and her lack of resistance answered his question fully, but as his lips prepared to interlock with hers, hooves reverberated the forest floor, shouts coming from afar, and the barbarian pulled away, gripping the hilt of his sword.

"My queen," a guard breathed, a look of relief on his face as he sounded the horn, the spirit hawk settling on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're safe, once the Hawk told us of your predicament, we dispatched scouting parties to comb every inch of these woods." Tryndamere let out a low growl, the grip on his hilt loosening, but his irritation did not falter as he waited for more guards to arrive. He threw his cloak over the woman beside him, hiding her torn and dirty dress, they should not see their queen so roughed up.

"Well, what are you lot doing? We don't have all day!" A soldier shouted offering his hand to the queen. Tryndamere sneered, wrapping his arm around the archer's waist protectively gently pulling her away from the soldier.

"She'll ride with me." Ashe nudged him, and the barbarian didn't bother to hide his scowl as he grabbed the reigns of a free horse, bitter over the interrupted kiss. He mounted the horse with ease, extending his arm down towards Ashe. "Let's go home, my queen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, it has been a loooooong week...
> 
> Editing more than 5k words just drains the life out of me DX


	5. Vladimir x Ahri

Ahri's eyes narrowed at the vampire, her nails growing out from underneath her skin as she took a step back observing the unfamiliar man. He had wandered into her forest by chance, his eyes gazing back and forth between the trees and the nine-tailed fox. The vampire glanced down to his bloody hands, a large gash slowly stitching itself closed, the man who had hurt him lost his nerves and fled into the forest. However, Vladimir did not think he would ever find someone like him, cursed by the powers she had been given, and all thoughts of the meal that had escaped him vanished altogether.

He took a confident step forward, a smirk tugging at his lips as he reached out for the fox, trying to drown out the bloodlust in his eyes. There was a reason he had chased after the man, after all. He was famished, he decided to keep his feeding to a minimum, but at least once every other week, the craving became too much. Although the vampire suppressed his bloodlust, Ahri was already aware of who and what the man was. Gossip went around, and her ears were more than just decoration, she had snuck into Noxus a few times, and the rumors were apparently true.

She could smell the blood off of him and snarled as she lunged at him, her claws swiping through the air. Vladimir did not mean the fox harm and sunk into a puddle of blood forming back into his human form adjusting his collar. He tried to reason with the woman, but she was aggressive, and he could not blame her, he had trespassed, with less than pure intentions. He was a territorial man himself, any who wandered his lands without authorization were usually drained of their blood, their body disposed of without a trace.

After failing to attack the man several times, Ahri sighed, her nails slowly retracting as she stood upright. "You're a pathetic excuse for a man," she huffed, her eyes glowing an enticing crimson pink, and the vampire tilted his head to the side, intrigued.

"Seems as though your charm does not work on me, pity," he mused. Watching the man manipulate blood with the slightest of hand movements, disturbed the fox. She was no angel herself, having taken many lives for the sake of self-preservation.

"Get. Out." She growled, her tails impatiently flailing about wildly as the vampire shook his head. Vladimir pressed a hand to his chest, despite having resisted her charm, an odd feeling forced his heart to beat at an uneven pace, and he glanced up at the fox, flustered.

"Are you perhaps afraid of me, sweetheart?" The vampire smirked but rose a brow as the woman ignored his taunt taking a step back.

As the vampire took a step forward, reaching for the fox, a booming roar erupted through the forest, and Vladimir retreated. The creature was quick, dancing in and out of his vision blending in with his surroundings as he came out of nowhere, his claws burying themselves in the dirt. A few paces away, a blue eye glowered back up at the vampire, the eyepatch on his left eye, glowing a deep yellow as he once again disappeared, and Vladimir grunted barely evading the blow in time.

"Go," the Pridestalker ordered, and the fox nodded turning her back on the two, running deeper into the forest, her tails flicking behind her. The vampire frowned, his eyes lingering on the withdrawing figure disappearing amongst the trees, his eyes focused once again on the vastyan hunter before him. Vladimir tugged on his collar, clearing his throat and he settled his condescending gaze on the chimeric creature.

"Let's finish this."

Ahri sat down on a tree stump, watching the animals gather around her, in hopes of comforting her. She rarely interacted with Rengar, but the prideful hunter would not let anyone simply roam his hunting grounds. Much less a blood-sucking monster who could potentially harm the ecosystem. Ahri would have dealt with the man herself, but she knew better than to get in Rengar's way, the vastayan tolerated the fox, she was after all one of his kind. He let her reside in his hunting grounds, as long as she remained out of his way, which proved to be no problem, as she spent most of her time sleeping.

A branch cracked and the fox rose to her feet, tails flailing as her ears perked up, wiggling slightly. She knew it was not Rengar, because he was a careful predator, never made a noise, as quiet and quick as the wind itself. Vladimir, emerged before the fox as a deformed ball of blood, slowly shifting back to his human form, liquid forming to solid, as his feet hit the ground. "We meet again," the vampire greeted.

Vladimir tugged at his collar, clearing his throat as he brushed his shoulders, his clothes damaged from the onslaught. Ahri's eyes narrowed at the smears of blood on his dress shirt, and he smiled. "Oh, don't worry, it's not mine." Ahri's face quickly fell, the defiance in her eyes turning to horror and she processed his words. Had he taken down Rengar? Her eyes turned a crimson pink once more, her nails growing longer by the second, fury burning in her eyes.

"Your friend is fine, sweetheart," he hummed cracking his neck. Ahri took a step back, the dry leaves under her feet cracking under pressure, and in an instant, the animals fled, as Ahri realized fighting was futile. Rengar was the strongest predator she had ever known in her life, there wasn't a being alive she knew who could take him on, but the vampire had come out on top relatively unscathed. "Are you going to run, little fox?"

Ahri didn't have to think twice as she turned quickly kicking leaves at the vampire, before dashing away, she hated running on all four limbs, but this time it was necessary. For a being who ran on two legs, the vampire was surprisingly fast, and in a flash, he caught up, coming to a halt as the fox swiped at him, her last resort to protect herself. Vladimir scowled in annoyance grabbing the foxes wrist as he pinned her to a nearby tree, his eyes boring into hers. Her crimson pink hues, glaring back defiantly, with a grunt Ahri rose her knee between the vampire's legs, but the man was quick and hastily pressed a hand down on her knee raising his brow.

"That's not nice," he cooed, twirling a lock of her hair around his index finger. "I still have a human anatomy."

"I know," the fox spat headbutting the vampire, but he ducked his head, her forehead hitting his shoulder, as Vlad raised her hand to his face, and without warning bit into her wrist, fangs sinking in without an ounce of care. The fox struggled elbowing his shoulder as hard as she could, but the man was made of stone, and she let out a loud agonizing cry earning a small chuckle from the vampire.

"If you're going to charm a man, you should be prepared to face the consequences, sweetheart," he scolded playfully, licking the beads of blood running down her forearm, the fox blushed furiously as she swallowed her rage.

"My charm doesn't work on you," she breathed watching him sink his fangs back into her flesh and cringed feeling her blood being drained. This couldn't possibly be healthy.

"Silly little girl," he murmured, his lips twitching upwards against her wrist, a playful smirk on his lips. Hearing a lack of response, he pulled away glancing at the fox, hooded eyelids as her body lost all its will to fight toppling forward. The vampire scolded himself for draining too much blood catching the fox in his arms as he glanced at her wrist. Like magic, his thumb grazed over her bitten flesh, and the two puncture marks disappeared.

Ahri awoke, her head throbbing, her limbs entangled in her fur, Rengar watching over her, the hunter grunted and rose to his feet seeing the girl was alright. He walked with a slight limp and Ahri tugged on his tail, her brows furrowed in confusion. "You're fine now," the Pridestalker growled and then in a flash, he left, in a heap of anger and Ahri scowled, knowing he must have been hurting inside, to have lost a fight, in his own territory. The vampire had not lied though, Rengar was fine, just a slight limp in his steps.

Once alone, her eyes darted to her wrist, and she was glad to find the puncture wounds gone, but she still felt violated in a sort of way. Ahri would have called herself a fool for deciding to go after the man in his own territory, but she would give him a taste of his own medicine. She was never close to Rengar, and she couldn't consider him a friend, but still, she felt for the Pridestalker. Pride, she thought to herself, this was what this was all about. Rengar did not stop her, but she could sense him dully watching her from the canopy, and with a snarl, he disappeared into the thicket.

Ahri rarely wandered into Noxus, but when she did it was never for anything good, and now she could rest her case. She calmed herself suppressing her powers and her tails shrunk along with her ears until they became nonexistent. Getting information in Noxus wasn't hard, you just had to know the right people, and charmed them she had. "Don't worry darling I won't tell anyone," she cooed to the man in the alleyway. Her charm was too much the bear, and the man began to babble everything he knew, just to spend a few more seconds in the presence of the sly fox. However, Ahri would not be taking his soul. She was too bitter to have a decent meal and knocked the man out cold letting him drop to the floor.

The fox walked with purpose deeper into Noxus, ignoring the lustful stares in her direction, even with a cloak on, she could not hide her feminine charm. She slipped into the shadows, climbing on top of a nearby roof, staring at the daunting manor before her, grim but posh, a show of power and wealth. Ahri had no problem getting past the guards, her charm lulling them into a deep slumber.

She walked through the halls with confidence, charming anyone in her way, she expected his manor to be well...more secure, but it was hardly a challenge getting through the gate. She thought perhaps it might have been a trap, that perhaps he was toying with her, he'd known she would come after him. But also, it's not like the man needed much security, he was perfectly lethal on his own. She could smell the scent of his blood from a mile away, her nose scrunching as she sniffed, the scent leading into the dining hall.

She threw open the double doors, met by a large oak table, adorned with a crimson tablecloth, two dinner plates set up, and Ahri stared at the man comfortably seated at the head of the table, his eyes gazing upon her. "You came," he smiled softly, his fingers drumming against the wood. "Looks I've charmed you this time." The fox narrowed her eyes, and sat across from the vampire, her ears drooping at the meaning of his words.

"You came because I've marked you," he trailed off, rising from his seat, slowly strolling to the other end of the table, resting one hand on Ahri's chair. "You know you wouldn't be able to kill me." He may have been right, about all of it, she couldn't kill him, and it definitely wasn't pride that worried her. It felt weird being under someone else's spell, is this what men felt when she charmed them, albeit to a much larger degree. Ahri was still in control, very much so as she grabbed the table knife and cut the vampire's cheek forcing him to back away.

Vladimir held his cheek, an unexpected smile gracing his lips. The fox retreated quickly, she had expected anger, for the predator within him to emerge and lunge at her, ripping her to shreds, but he looked amused. "I am a man," he drawled picking up the discarded knife, staring at stained steel. With disinterest, he tossed it behind himself and watched as the fox warily eyed him. There was nothing she could do since she was in his domain, and the advantage lied with him.

He approached her carefully reaching his hand out to her. "It's too much to bear, isn't it? The hunger? The pain? The solitude? The...guilt?" he ventured, and he smirked seeing her face drop slightly. The vampire himself felt no guilt whatsoever from the lives he took, innocent or not. That being said, the woman was a much tender being than he was, her humanity remained, unwanted emotions that drained the life out of her.

Hesitantly, Ahri rested her hand in his, and he pulled her in slowly, embracing the fox as he played with one of her tails, it had been almost too easy. Until he felt his body being split into half, and he glanced down at her hand resting on his chest, her eyes glowing a crimson pink as she figuratively sunk her fangs into his soul, but he did not stop her, that didn't prevent the uncomfortable feeling from sweeping across his body though. She would not kill him; she could not. He was after all, immortal. The feeling was foreign, but he did not despise it.

She finally pulled away after getting her fill, her eyes returning to their normal color as her ears twitched. "You can't kill me," Vladimir said dryly. "My essence may very well be infinite, for all I know." He could see the disappointment in her eyes as her ears and tail drooped from her wasted efforts. "It hurts doesn't it?" the vampire cooed, grazing her cheek with his knuckles.

"I can give you everything you desire, and in exchange," he whispered sinking his fangs into her neck. "I will take your blood." Vladimir didn't linger long as he pulled away, gently caressing her neck, the puncture wounds fading entirely.

"What kind of offer is that?" She huffed slapping his hand away. Her dignity returning to her after having been bitten again, this time though, he had not drained her blood, simply left his touch to linger. "I'm not a pet."

"You're free to go and come as you please, my men won't hold a grudge," he smiled taking her hand in his tenderly, tracing her knuckles with his thumb. "But before you leave," he said softly cupping her cheek as his arm wrapped around her waist. "It would be rude to send a guest off without a housewarming gift." He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers softly, smirking at how docile she was during the act, and deepened the kiss taking advantage of the situation at hand.

"Am I interrupting something?" A deep velvety voice spoke, and Vlad parted with her soft plump lips, glancing over her shoulder at the general standing idly in the archway of the dining room.

"What?" the vampire growled keeping a firm hold on the fox in front of him.

"I was hoping to speak with you, but clearly you are...preoccupied, with other matters," Swain spoke smoothly, his eyes examining Ahri's form, her tails catching his attention but he paid it no mind as he vanished in a storm of crows.

"Nosey as always," the vampire droned, flashing Ahri his fangs as he let her go entirely. "Go little fox, and do care to remove your charms on your way out." Ahri narrowed her eyes but said nothing as she sauntered out of the room, her fluffy tails restless behind her, her thoughts raced through her mind, but the vampire knew she would come back, eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rawr~


	6. Rengar x Nidalee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done with my finals and finally free from the chains of servitude that is writing crappy AP Literature papers haha

The deer sprung through the thicket, scurrying wildly, its hooves slamming against the dirt terrain, glancing over its shoulder for the Huntress. Nidalee was quick on her feet, steps agile and silent, dancing in and out of the deer's vision. She hated the terror in their eyes when she hunted them, the fear they radiated, the feel of their fur after skinning the beasts, and even worse, when she stared into their lifeless eyes, seeing her reflection. However, she needed to survive, and she needed food to do so, hunting was a necessity, not a pleasure. Nidalee readied her javelin, drawing back her arm ready to launch the deadly weapon, but the animal squealed, a bola wrapping around its front legs as it fell over. A large Vastayan dropped from the canopy executing the deer with swift precision.

"Rengar," Nidalee growled. She thrust her arm forward, her javelin splitting the air, lodging itself in the bark behind the Pridestalker. "That was my kill."

"Really?" He asked in a mocking tone. "This is my territory isn't it?" And sure enough it was, the deer had just crossed into Rengar's territory, effectively making the prey his. Nidalee frowned, however, knowing he had been patiently waiting to drop down, solely for this very moment to take place, he took a certain pride in stealing kills.

"You have no business meddling with my kills, kitty. You may have a different philosophy when it comes to hunting, but I would prefer you keep my food out of your silly games."

"Silly games?" He drawled slowly, his eyes narrowing as he crossed over into her territory, threateningly circling her, a warning for her to watch her words. "Talent is wasted on you," he snarled baring his teeth at the feline. The Huntress scoffed glaring him up and down defiantly, not a trace of fear in her eyes.

"At least I don't have to overcompensate by hoarding trophies...to justify my existen-"

"Because I am not faint-hearted," he growled, and Nidalee approached the Vastayan standing toe to toe with him, one hand around his neck, her thumb pressed uncomfortably to his throat, claws digging into his fur.

"You best go before I lose my patience," she hissed. Rengar knew better than to pick a fight with her, despite her different ways, she was still a fearsome woman, and he would not come out of the battle unscathed. There was no reason to fight her, he enjoyed mocking and teasing her far too much to kill her, and it was too bothersome, even if the challenge would be a thrill to remember. However, he did not tolerate threats and reached for her throat, but a gunshot sounded in the distance, and the two stared on, in alarm. Humans.

Nidalee slipped away during the distracting turning to a cougar as she leaped away, heading in the direction of the gunshot. Despite her squabble with Rengar, it was still her territory, and she made haste hoping the animals were okay. Rengar scowled when he realized the cougar had made her 'escape.' Humans never had the audacity to step onto these lands before, so why now? He took four steps back, crossing back into his territory. It was not his problem considering it was not his territory. Nidalee was at best a good acquaintance, and at the best of times, they even shared meals. Perhaps it was petty of him not to help her, knowing she wouldn't think twice before coming to his aid, but then again, he was not known to be a compassionate creature, he was a trophy hunter.

Rengar sat, blending with the canopy, his eyes fixated on the sky, the sun sinking below the horizon. His thoughts trailed back to the deer, and he jumped down preparing to head back to his hideout until another shot rung through the air, the scent of blood wafting through his nostrils. He visibly winced turning on his heels, Nidalee's image plaguing his every thought. His body acted first, as he fell on all fours, running faster than he thought himself capable. His eyes glossed over the appalling sigh of tree stumps, dead animals, and a trail of blood which stopped abruptly. The Vastayan held back a guttural growl, partially relieved that the feline had been able to escape while masking her trail. He followed her scent, emerging from the looming shadows, the sun already set, and Nidalee held her javelin aloft, her eyes softening when she realized who it was.

"You're in my territory," she growled, pointing for him to leave with her javelin. He ignored her, examining her wound, a bullet lodged in her shoulder, her arms scarred from the burning of ropes, and his eyes darkened. He should have followed, humans were worse than beasts, and he should have slaughtered all of them. His eyes settled on her wound, and she slapped his hand away before he could attempt anything. "Unless you're here to help, then leave."

"I hunt alone," he growled. "I don't...help." She nodded not surprised by his answer and wondered why he was still lurking around. It wasn't his problem. The prideful hunter never listened to her anyway, and he wouldn't start now. Instead, he seated himself across from her, the Huntress bit her bottom lip, drawing blood as she removed the bullet from her shoulder using her sharp nails to do as little damage as possible. With a loud muffled cry and much difficulty, she removed the bullet, and Rengar shifted uncomfortably, he had never been shot before, but he remembered what it felt like to lose his eyes and unconsciously his hand hovered over his patched eye.

Nidalee pressed a hand to her shoulder, a gentle green light kissing her torn flesh, the damage being more severe than she anticipated. Her eyes trailed back to the bullet resting on her lap, she would have to make sure never to be hit with one of those again, they were much too damaging, had nature not been on her side, she would have surely lost her arm. Rengar carefully made his ways towards her, wrapping a considerate hand around her wrist, forcing her arm down to her side. Her wound looked for the most part closed, but he knew that her healing powers came at a cost, and it was not prudent for Nidalee to push herself. He picked up the bundle of herbs neatly organized on a pouch next to her and crushed the herbs dabbing them gently on her wound.

He wrapped her shoulder, the herbs firmly held in place making sure the wound would not succumb to infection, but the pain remained. With a nod of thanks, the Huntress turned back into her cougar form, resting against the bark of a tree, curled up and exhausted, thankful the bullet had done minimal damage. Rengar took a seat not too far away, watching over the sleeping cougar, her ears drooping and eyes heavy. Her thoughts wandered the man who shot her, eyes staring down the length of the barrel, it was an uncomfortable feeling, and she would not forget it any time soon.

Nidalee remembered simpler times, when humans used bows and arrows, those wounds were manageable, but bullet wounds, she feared for the future. Arrows could be caught, or even dodged, but the latter traveled much faster, and even with her sharp senses, it proved difficult. Her ears twitched as the Pridestalker rose, stalking into the darkness, leaving the cougar to rest, and she relaxed falling into slumber soon after. Although Nidalee was asleep, she was a predator, her senses razor-sharp, and she awoke instantly smelling the familiar scent of humans. It was still dark, and she frowned, wondering if they were desperate or suicidal, they never knew when to give up. She rose to her feet, transforming back into a human as she assembled all her belongings into her leather pouch and threw it over her shoulder climbing up into the canopy.

"I told you coming at night was a mistake, boss. Can't see shit, and the moon can go kiss my ass."

"Quit your yapping you fool, or I'll feed you to the dogs," A woman snapped, her voice low and sharp. Nidalee glanced down, javelin at the ready, but inspecting the traveling pack of hunters; she would have to pick them off one by one, she could not afford to take them all on at the same time. "Come here kitty, kitty," the woman cooed, her rifle held aloft. She visibly winced at the men, each having a rifle secured to their backs with a leather strap wrapped around their torso. Sensing a presence behind her, Nidalee spun on the thick branch, her leg caught in Rengar's firm grip, but he took no offense, glancing down at the hunters.

"Scared?" he taunted dropping down from the canopy, lunging at the hunters. There was at least a dozen of them, and Rengar ruthlessly dispatched two of them on his way down, dancing between the hunters as they struggled to aim at the Pridestalker fearing to hit one of their own. It didn't last long as the hunters circled the distressed lion, nets held tightly in both hands, closing in they threw it over the feral predator. He struggled, limbs caught in the netting, claws slicing away at the cord until all the hunters had their rifles trained on him.

Nidalee sighed, shaking her head at the moron beneath her, of course, he needed to go bravado, there was no point in showing off if he would end up dead. As agile as the Pridestalker was, he was big, and being large also meant being an easier target to hit, so Nidalee opted to remain in her human form. She readied her javelin chucking it into the midst of hunters, dropping down at the same time, both surprise and panic surging in the hunters as they turned their heads in every direction, their gaze falling on the Huntress, her beauty surreal. The men lowered their rifles.

"What are you doing, shoot her!" the woman spat aiming her rifle at the feline. A roar erupted through the forest, and the leader of the pack gasped, her rifle flying from her hands, Rengar's claws pressed to her throat, holding the woman hostage. The hunters turned their rifles to him. Rengar gave a grateful nod to the Huntress who had freed him from the netting with her spear. As she went to retrieve her javelin, however, one of the hunters shot in her direction and she froze, the bullet skimmed her cheek. It all happened so quickly, blood sprayed in every direction, and the Pridestalker went wild, tearing apart anyone who dared to stand in his way, he was quick and precise, anger flaring through those hetero-chromatic eyes of his.

The hunters, fearing for their lives, began to disperse, every man for himself, but Rengar didn't care, he would rip every single one of them to bits and pieces. One of the hunters was in shock, his legs unable to carry him, whimpering as the Pridestalker closed in. Rengar's hand closed in around the boy's throat, claws digging in his flesh as he squeezed, Nidalee reached out, unsure if that was the best call, he was just a boy. Rengar froze, dropping the boy, and glancing over his shoulder, he spotted three darts lodged in his back, staring back at the frightened hunters.

With a growl, he dropped to his knees, firmly clutching the ground, the hunters making their escape from the wounded Pridestalker. "Rengar," Nidalee breathed rushing to his side. She plucked the darts out of his back cursing under her breath reaching into her pouch. The Vastayan collapsed, and Nid caught him, his massive figure nearly toppling her over. She threw his arm over her shoulders and dragged him deeper into the woods, into his territory, one she had rarely ventured into, fearing for her life. Ironically, she was tending to his wounds, countering the poison with her own magic, her palms firmly pressed to his back.

He was heavy and rolling him onto his stomach had almost been as challenging as dragging the lion back to his lair. She relaxed as the sky lightened, the sun preparing to breach over the horizon. Nidalee had not slept yet, but she was thankful the hunter seemed fine. His ragged breaths now smooth and even, he no longer twitched in his sleep, and his pale face had regained color, despite his white fur. She had removed part of his armor, giving the hunter room to breathe.

The Pridestalker awoke, his eyes peering at the canopy, streaks of light filtering in. He tilted his head forward, gazing down at the disarray of untamed hair sprawled across his chest. With a gentle hand, he gathered up Nidalee's hair throwing it over her shoulder. He shook his head, staring at the dark circles under her eyes. Despite his efforts to restrain her from using too much of her magic, her sense of self-preservation was shabby at best, but he had no room to talk. As he propped himself up onto his elbows, his eyes met hers, and he cursed silently, wishing her not to be such a light sleeper.

"Are you feeling better?" Nidalee asked.

"Are you?" He asked back, brushing her question aside, but one arm did travel behind his person as he patted his back, feeling for the darts, which were gone.

"I've been better." It was a tense, awkward silence and Nidalee crawled to her leather pouch, gripping it tightly, preparing to leave. "The darts were laced with poison, I managed to stabilize the poison and slowly draw it out of your bloodstream, but if anything is amiss, you know where to find me."

"Wait-" Rengar rumbled watching the feline turn his back to him. He struggled to find it in himself to say thank you, too much of his pride would be lost in the process.

"Still want to work alone?" She asked, a glint of hope in her eyes as she spoke.

"Someone has to watch over you," he muttered reaching for his armor. The huntress rolled her eyes, but she found herself unable to contain her smile.

"I look forward to working with you then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed :) 
> 
> Also sorry if another note pops up? Idk I'm struggling ;-;


	7. Riven x Zac

The outskirts of Noxus were rarely inhabited, except for the war orphans residing in the rural farms run by the empire. It wasn't much of a farm, the rocky hillsides had little to provide, but Riven found a way to make do with what she was given. Living close to the border, the young girl often traversed into Zaun, in search of food and a place of solitude she could call her own. Her absence had not gone unnoticed, but none of the elders took great alarm in her absence, she always came back for supper, looking weary and exhausted, her steps limp from exercising and sparring with herself.

On her way down the mountain, crossing into Zaun, Riven scavenged for berries, picking a few and shoving them in her pockets to eat after her training. She began with her usual routine consisting of push ups, sit ups, pull ups, and lunges, using the terrain to her advantage. Once all was said and done, she began her hour-long jog, her breaths quick and ragged from the physical workout. She opted for a quick break as she wandered the woods, making sure to mark the way so she would not get lost.

Emerging from the thicket, she came upon a small makeshift playground, unintentionally she circled around it, checking for any defects and/or traps. It had become second nature, and she scolded herself for overthinking so much, but then again no one built a playground randomly in the middle of nowhere. Riven glanced around quickly, and sensing no one; she stepped onto the playground, her fingers grazing the chain that held up the swing. She sat on the swing and gripped the chains loosely, her feet kicking the ground to gain momentum. 

She had never been on a swing before despite seeing some as a child, but her father stressed the importance of working hard, and having fun was the opposite of working hard, she had deducted. Though she swung back and forth, she wasn't having very much fun, the feeling was new, but nothing extraordinary and she sighed coming to a halt. Her stomach grumbled, and she reached into her pockets taking out the berries. She stared at them long and hard and ate them in a hurry, knowing that all that awaited her at the farm was watered down soup and stale bread.

"What have we here?" A boy said, and Riven looked up in alarm. Some of the boys from the farm had followed her down here, and she cursed under her breath for leaving marks. Riven got off the swing wiping her mouth from the residue of the berries, but the action did not go unnoticed by the boys. "So this is where you wander off to every day?" One of the boys said, circling the playground, scrunching his nose at the poorly put together swing and merry go round. Riven did not answer.

"You think you're so special, huh?" One of the boys charged her, and despite Riven only being nine and the boys considerably older and broader, fear was not one of her specialties. She evaded his blow, taking hold of his elbow, forcing him down on all fours before connecting her knee to his jaw. Riven heard a satisfying crack and let of the boy as the others charged her. She found it almost therapeutical when her knuckles connected to the boy's face. She moved swiftly and with deadly precision taking out the boys one by one; she was a natural. However, she missed a step, and one of the boys rammed into her like a bull.

Riven fell on her side, groaning as air sprinted from her lungs, black dots invading her vision. She recovered quickly, however, but it was too late, one of the boys already had her pinned down, and she screamed, trying to kick him off in a fit of rage. Despite her martial prowess, Riven was still outnumbered and exhausted from her workout, and her body gave out. The boys pulled her hair and dragged her through the dirt, forcing her down against the terrain as they kicked her. It was painful, and she wanted to cry, to scream out, but instead, she curled up in a ball, desperate to protect herself.

"Pick on someone your own size!" A voice boomed through the forest, and the boys scurried to their feet, unable to spot who had said those words. Out of nowhere, a large glob of green goo emerged from the canopy, and Riven gasped covering herself as the goo landed on her. Strangely enough, though, it didn't hurt. Zac glared at the trio and swung at the boys; his arm expanded, limb flexible as he swept the boys off their feet, giving them a taste of their own medicine.

"Y-You monster!" they shouted, scurrying to their feet, making a run for it, leaving the ball of goo frowning. Zac heard a small grunt underneath him and slid off helping the girl to her feet.

"Are you okay?" the greenish boy asked with a boyish grin. Riven stared on, her head tilting as she processed what stood before her. The boy was slender and taller than her, he didn't particularly have any eyes per se, but his eye sockets shone a bright yellow, contrasting his green anatomy, a long antenna extending from the top of his head, falling over itself. She heard her father in the back of her head scolding her for her bad manners, and she straightened up giving a sloppy salute.

"Thank you," she said. The boy laughed and looked down at her, brightness filling his eyes. Riven rubbed the dirt off her cheeks, taking a step back. Her legs gave out, and she stumbled, Zac catching her with ease. Despite being goo, he wasn't sticky, but rather hard, and very strong. "Sorry," she mumbled as he helped her take a seat. Her legs weren't cooperating, and she lightly hit them, knowing that none of the military officers would take her seriously if they ever saw her like this.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, genuine worry in his eyes. Riven shook her head and smiled unknowingly. It had been a long time since she had heard those words. "My name is Zac and you?" Riven was hesitant to give out her name, but she also knew that the boy before her, had saved her life.

"It's Riven," she answered rubbing her wrists uncomfortably. The ball of goo smirked as he sank down to her size, taking a seat in front of her.

"That's a pretty name, my parents would love that name," he nodded to himself, and that caught Riven's attention.

"Parents?" she asked.

"Yeah, you know, parents, I'm sure you have some," he smirked. Zac hit a sour topic for the young girl, but she just nodded not wanting to start on the wrong foot. Parents, she thought to herself. Her father had never kept anything hidden. He told her of the scientists who experimented on live specimens, some for good, and others for villainous purposes. Zac, however, he looked kind, that boyish grin, and bright eyes, it was hard to picture anything evil in him. She recalled those boys who called him a monster and frowned, knowing if anyone was a monster, it was them.

"I don't think you're a monster," she fumbled with her words, staring at the boy for any particular reaction, but he just smiled. Without thinking, Riven reached out and squeezed his arm disappointed at his lack of squishiness.

"I'm not as squishy as I look," he chuckled pinching his own skin-well, goo. Riven glanced up at the sky, past the canopy, and gasped, all color draining from her face.

"I-I have to go," she scurried to her feet, but Zac caught her, helping the girl on his back.

"I'll carry you, no worries." Riven nodded reluctantly and stared at the swing; she assumed the playground was for him, after all, it was in the middle of nowhere. That must have meant that Zac was an experiment, she thought to herself. Her hands slightly sunk into his goo and she frowned, she wondered if his parents were scientists, but then that meant they were good scientists. Her father told of her of how specimens were treated, often locked up, unable to see the light of day. They were oppressed, but Zac, he was happy, he got to go outside, he even had his own makeshift playground.

"Do your parents love you?" she asked out of the blue, her chin resting on his shoulder. Zac found it an odd question but answered anyway.

"Yes, they tell me so every day," he smiled proudly, and suddenly Riven felt envious, she had rarely heard those words from her father, but she also felt relieved, if not happy for the strange boy. Nearing closer to the Noxian border, Riven tapped his shoulder, and he let her down. Finding her legs functioning again, she glanced back at Zac with a sheepish smile.

"Thank you." With that, the young girl walked away, and Zac stood in the clearing looking on, his heart throbbing. His mother had told him to beware of strangers, as she said, stranger danger, but Riven was different, she wasn't like those men who knocked on their door, his parents ushering him to hide under the bed. She was friendly and cute, and cute things, Zac had learned, were usually harmless. Like the ladybug his parents had shown him, it was cute.

"Will you be back?" He asked, a little frantic. Riven peered over her shoulder and gave him a boyish grin of her own.

"Of course."

The next few weeks that followed, Riven wandered down to the playground, meeting Zac as promised. Despite her bullies running to the elders shouting about some monster, they were not taken seriously. Riven, of course, denying these events ever took place, the issue was never looked into.

"Zac?" Riven called out softly, peering between the trees, she wandered onto the playground, setting down the fresh loaf of bread she had managed to snatch from the kitchen. "Are you here?" Riven wandered around the playground, kicking the small pebbles around, the young girl sighed taking a seat on the rusty swing, eyes coming to a close, listening to the sounds of nature. An arm wrapped around her waist, and she gasped, arms flailing in every direction. Zac gave a hearty chuckle hoisting the white-haired girl off the swing.

"I got you," Zac said, a flirtatious voice that went unnoticed by Riven. It was a tone he often heard his father use, he had asked about it, and his father responded that it was a tone of endearment. One that you use on someone you liked, of course, Zac loved his parents dearly, but his father told him that it had to be used on someone he held dear, someone who made him smile with the simplest of actions. His father called it love, and that he would know when the time came.

Zac had yet to tell his parents about Riven, she was after all a stranger in their eyes, and his parents did not respond well to strangers. However, he was almost certain he was in love, he did not have a heart per se, but he could feel something inside of him, warmth in a sort of way. Zac had grown larger, and she wasn't sure how, but he had gained more mass or well goo. Riven glanced down, her feet hovering above the ground. "Zac, how old are you?" she asked.

The boy set her down and started counting on one hand, extra fingers growing out of his hand as he counted above five, to seven. "Seven months?" he questioned, trying to remember the makeshift calendar he had created with his parents.

"S-Seven months?" she stuttered, trying to collect herself. Zac was just a baby, at least that explained why he looked so dumb-founded by some of the things she spoke of. She didn't overthink it as she picked up the loaf of bread offering it to him. It was the first time Zac had looked uncomfortable and Riven withdrew the loaf of bread, looking equally as uncomfortable, taking the extra step to apologize.

"I umm...don't eat food," he chuckled sadly, pointing to his partly see-through stomach.

"Oh right," she whispered mostly to herself, glancing up to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he smiled taking the loaf of bread from her. With his strength, he easily tore the loaf into pieces and handed Riven a piece. "You need to eat more. Mother says it's important to stay healthy."

"What do you eat?" Riven asked.

"Che-mi-cals?" he tried to pronounce, and with a proud smile, he nodded. "Yeah, those. Mom and Dad say they help me grow bigger and stronger." Well, that explained his unusual growth, Riven thought to herself. The girl glanced to the sky, estimating the remainder amount of time she had left before she needed to head back to the farm, and looked to Zac, a grin on her face.

"Have you ever played hide and seek?" She asked. Zac shook his head, and Riven sat him down, explaining the basic rules to him, and how she wouldn't wander too far. He nodded attentively mentally jotting down her words. Counting to one-hundred, Zac uncovered his eyes, listening intently to any sounds, but all he heard were the sound of birds chirping, and the breeze gently swaying the leaves. Riven was a naturally quiet girl whether it be her breathing, her steps, or her voice, she had a way of being subtle like no other.

He wandered the forest, searching high and low for his friends, gazing at the sky occasionally to make sure she would not get in trouble if it got too late. However, he spotted her in the canopy; her back turned to him as she sat idly, watching the sky. He stepped carefully, feet merging with the terrain as to avoid accidentally stepping on a twig and alerting her. She looked peaceful as if she had forgotten the world entirely, or the boy that hunted her.

As Zac neared the tree, he looked up, extending his body as far as he could, now at eye level with Riven. "Found you," he smirked. Riven did not look startled as she turned to her right, giving the boy a strange smile, her eyes gazing down to his extended form, awe in her eyes. She had never seen him grow so tall before. Climbing onto his arm, Zac lowered himself to the ground, helping Riven to her feet.

"Is that supposed to happen?" Riven asked, pointing to the bloblet of goo on the ground.

"Ah, it's called cell division, happens when I stretch out," he grumbled picking up the bloblet. Riven watched intently as he slapped the patch of goo to his body, watching it sink in slowly and blend with the rest of his body.

"D-Does it hurt?" Riven asked. Zac's eyes softened at her worry filled eyes, caressing her cheek tenderly. An action he must have learned from his parents.

"It doesn't," he assured. "I don't feel pain." Riven frowned assuming he was lying, but with his body, it wasn't unlikely.

"Can you feel anything?" She asked. He nodded.

"I can feel your warmth," he smiled holding her hand. "Your touch," he whispered rubbing the pad of her finger. "The way you make me feel." He dragged her hand to his chest, and even though he did not have a heart, the gesture was heartfelt. Riven smiled patting his chest, leaning on her toes, and she kissed his cheek.

Zac pulled back hastily holding his cheek, and something within him fluttered, and he cleared his throat glancing down at Riven. She didn't seem hurt, a soft smile on her lips. The sun was beginning to set and the two exchange meaningful looks. Riven balled her hand into a fist, her pinky sticking out. "Let's be friends forever?" The young girl grinned, and Zac mimicked her enthusiasm as his pinky locked with hers.

"Always."

Heading back to the farm, Riven glanced over her shoulder, Zac already gone and out of sight. A content smile spread across her lips, and she walked back with a spring in her steps. When she got back, she pretended not to notice the elders frantically searching for the culprit who had stolen the loaf of fresh bread from the kitchen. What they didn't know couldn't hurt them, she had been careful and knew no one had seen her. She watched in amusement as one of the boys was pinned for the theft, and Riven whistled heading to her room, a cruel smirk on her lips.

That night, Riven couldn't sleep, the image of Zac constantly on her mind. That kiss had felt so nerve-racking, but once the deed was done, she had never felt happier. She turned over, staring out the window, smoke rising in the distance. She sat up, staring in horror, a feeling of dread washing over her. She wasted no time as she threw the blanket off of herself, running out of farmstead, her small legs carrying her as fast as they could. She ignored the shouts chasing after her, she didn't care that she was barefoot, or in her nightgown, all she could think of was Zac.

An image of him rushed through her mind, the first time they had met, his gentle smile, that goofy grin he always got when they played hide and seek, and their endless hours of conversation. The face he had made when she kissed him, their promise. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she groaned rubbing away the wetness as she passed the playground, more memories flooding through her mind. She had never wandered this deep into the forest, respecting Zac's privacy and understanding his 'predicament.'

She finally emerged into a small clearing, staring at the burning home. Riven approached the home, her steps slow and hesitant the smell of burning flesh hit her nostrils and immediately, she imagined the worst. Coming closer to the house, Riven tripped and glanced back holding her mouth, stifling a cry of horror. She scurried away, but the body grasped her ankle, and she let out a terrified squeak.

"Zac," the woman rasped, her eyelid opening slightly. "My Zac," the woman cried. "They took my Zac." Riven's fear instantly faded as she approached the bloody, beaten body, cupping the woman's hand.

"Who took your Zac?" Riven asked softly, rubbing circles on the woman's palm.

"I don't know," the woman cried. "They took my Zac." Their eyes met, and a soft smile graced the woman's lips. "You're Zac's friend...he drew a picture of you. Thought I never saw it, silly boy." The desperate chuckle that escaped her lips tore Riven's heart in two, and she held back a sob, squeezing the woman's hands. Zac loved his parents very much, he talked about them for hours on end, how much he admired and appreciated them. Them.

Riven glanced back to the home, knowing the fate of her husband was a most unfortunate one. Glancing back as the woman's grip grew limp, Riven closed her eyes, murmuring a few polite words, closing the woman's eyes. She rose, turning her back on the scene as she jogged after the footprints that circled around the house.

She found herself once more in the woods, the lack of light did not bother her, she was dedicated to her mission. Finding Zac. She ignored the pain coursing through her bare feet, twigs, and rocks digging into her skin. She closed in on the men, arguing about the blob of goo they had to carry. Without thinking, Riven grabbed a twig and rushed one of the men jumping onto his back jamming the twig in his neck. It didn't go very far before it broke on impact, and the man let go of the container, throwing Riven off his shoulder.

The glass container shattered, and Zac came rolling out but remained limp. "Zac!" Riven screamed rising back to her feet, her eyes filled with worry over the limp blob. The man backhanded Riven, and she let out a cry of pain as she fell, rolling on her side, gazing at the green friend. Zac looked so small, no bigger than an infant.

"Stupid bitch," the man growled, kicking the young girl. Riven groaned, rolling on her other side, clenching her teeth as the man kicked her ruthlessly. "And stay down," he growled rubbing the side of his neck. Riven sucked in a breath propping herself up on her elbows. The man frowned and shook his head rolling his knuckles against his throat, where the twig had left a mark.

"Give me back my Zac!" she cried desperately, rising to her knees. The man grunted and kicked Riven's jaw sending her reeling back in pain as she held her bleeding nose.

"Stupid kid, let's go."

"Give him back," she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Give him back..."

Zac opened his eyes, his eyes falling on Riven, he couldn't find it in himself to move. "Riven..." he mumbled, an inaudible sound to her ears. Her voice echoed in his ears, her desperation enraging him, but even with all the built up emotions, he could do nothing, but close his eyes.

Riven awoke not long after, forcing herself onto her stomach, propping herself up onto her elbows, she got to her knees and braced herself as she rose to her feet. Her legs wobbled and nearly gave out, but she remained standing, gazing down at her blood-soaked hands, dry blood now covering her nose and chin. She limped to the small bloblets of goo still on the ground from the broken glass container, taking the time to gather them up, her blood soaking into the material, but strangely enough, the color did not change.

She hugged the small bloblet of goo to her chest, tears streaming down her damp cheeks, vowing to find him no matter how long it took. That night, Riven never returned to the farm, she set off on a self-proclaimed journey, to become stronger, and to find her friend. It was a rough start, and the world seemed grimmer than she remembered, perhaps it was due to the ongoing conflicts with between Zaun and Noxus. Food was not too hard to find, Riven managed on what nature had to provide but eventually picked up hunting. Relying on her quick feet and sleight of hands to get by. She eventually managed to acquire all the goods she would need for her journey: food, pelts, a sword, a bow, and a dagger to keep her company. 

With no distractions in her way, she trained day and night, practicing her swordsmanship and taking the occasional shady contract refining her skills in real combat situations. Most were doubtful of the young girl, but her prowess spread like wildfire, but that was all it remained — a rumor. Riven didn't like to make a spectacle of herself, her face remained covered with the help of her hood, and she disappeared altogether. Her goal was not to become renowned. She stared down at the locket secured around her neck, and opened it, revealing a small blob of goo.

The two years she had spent training had finally paid off as she raided a research facility in Zaun, the security was lacking at best, and Riven found no difficulty waltzing into the compound. She searched high and low, but finding no trace of Zac, she left. Riven rolled out her map, x-ing out a red dot. She had wandered Zaun for the past two years during her training, listening to the local gossip, including both officers and civilians. She marked the location of every research facility in Zaun and the outskirts with the hopes that Zac would be in one of them. It didn't take a genius to know who had taken him. Zac could be a destructive weapon had he wanted to become so, but she also knew that he was unstable, he needed mass to function, and lost it rather quickly based on what she saw. He needed to be maintained and restrained, and because she was sure Zac would throw a fit the second he woke up, she knew she would.

Zac stared at the empty cell across from him, the dim lights from the lanterns bringing limited comfort, to the uneasy feeling in his chest. There hadn't been a day that went by where he did not think of Riven, her smile, her warmth, her lips, their promise, and his pinky twitched. It was all almost too much to bear. He awoke in a raging tantrum but was quickly put down. Being electrocuted was not painful in the least, but he had lost feeling in all his limbs, and unable to move, he was forced into obedience. Zac knew he could only do so little while having so little mass. So he became docile, letting the scientists take care of him. He ate whatever he was given and over time grew, but the process was too slow for his liking.

His parents had made his growth seem almost effortless, but overnight, Zac could hardly tell the difference in his body. Day after day, he waited and waited for the time to come where he could escape. He spent his days resting in the corner of his cell, thinking of his parents and Riven, wondering what had happened to them. However, today, the thought of his lost friend did not calm him, he could hear her screams echo in his mind, screaming his name, and crying in pain.

"Zac~" The scientist cooed, peeking her head through the bars. "Hungry?" The blob of goo offered a grunt and slithered to the door, letting the scientist inject him. He noticed the two guards with her and took the form of his normal self.

"What's with them?" he asked warily.

"Oh, just extra precautions, some white-haired girl has been going around raiding research facilities, you know how crazy girls get when they're jealous," the scientist giggled. It took Zac a moment to process the information, and then looked up at the scientist, he had never bothered to learn her name, but he was very much curious about the white-haired girl she mentioned. "Don't look at me like that, you're safe don't worry, she'll never find this facility, we're deep underground after all," she assured and thinned her lips realizing she maybe shouldn't have said that.

"Thank you," Zac muttered.

"Your safety is our utmost concern," the woman smiled. "She wouldn't make it very far, anyway." Zac grabbed the woman's collar from inside the cell and slammed her against the bars watching her reel back in pain. He commandeered the syringe and jammed the needle in his arm, pressing down on the plunger.

"She won't have to," Zac said dryly throwing the syringe aside. He grew exponentially and slid out through the bars. He had been kept in a glass containment chamber at first, but due to his docile nature, he was allowed room to breathe, his own cell, and sometimes he could even wander around the facility. The guards shouted, and Zac took every ounce of pleasure throwing them around. They wanted to make him into a weapon, well their wish would be granted. Zac rampaged through the facility killing all who he thought deserved that mercy. The kind gentle boy they had once known, was no more.

Riven sat down crossing out another red dot on her map, she had crossed out almost all the dots, and now more than ever, she felt desperation eating away at her resolve. What if Zac had forgotten her, what if everything was for naught. She didn't like to think like this, but she was growing weary, desperate and everything hurt, including her heart. Her hand pressed to her bleeding wound, and she closed her eyes, feeling the cool breeze nip at her cheeks. The breeze suddenly stopped, and she opened her eyes, met with a ragged looking man, a sword strapped to his waist. The man looked a lot like her father, but she knew that was just the uniform, a Noxian uniform.

The man offered her a job knowing the rumors were more than just simply that, Riven was a natural soldier and having her dream job offered to her seemed unrealistic. Having learned so much from her father, she was obedient, her discipline was unrivaled, and her tolerance of pain topped all others, she was the perfect soldier, and her talent did not go unnoticed by the officers around her. Riven thought long a hard about her decision, the man had found her in a time of weakness, but the pain was gone. Zac still haunted her mind, but it felt nice not having to be the ones to make the decisions, to suffer the consequences, and the pain, all she had to do was follow orders, and everything took its course. The years passed as she rose through the ranks, awarded with a runic blade, perfect for her style of fighting.

Despite her hesitance, she felt she owed the Noxian army her loyalty, and her loyalty they got in full. She led her men to countless victories, revered for both her beauty and martial prowess, and she began to make enemies of those higher than her. Though she was not aware of it, Riven found comfort being on the battlefield, and she would never substitute that for a position of unrivaled authority, she discovered that being a pawn was not as bad as it seemed. She was treated well, fed, and had a roof over her head, and had somewhere she could return to, though she would not call it home.

She glanced down to her locket, the bloblet of goo still intact and peacefully residing within. As she lied in bed, she brought the locket to her lips, kissing it softly. She closed her eyes, and the first thing that came to mind was their pinky promise, and she sat up wondering what she was doing. A feeling of unease washed over her the next morning, a feeling that something terrible was going to happen, but she did not question orders as she rode with her men to the frontlines. That was until, they were separated from the rest of the legion of soldiers behind them, and surrounded by the enemy, Riven was hellbent on survival.

Despite all the years that had passed, Zac came to mind, and her resolve was to see him once more, she would do anything to see him again. A single arrow pierced the wind, wrapped in cloth and oil, its material ablaze. The realization dawned on Riven that the cargo they were transporting were not provisions. "Take cover!" she shouted to her men, but she was too late as the arrow struck the barrel, the explosion caught her off guard, and the shock sent her flying back. Raging green flames consumed the battlefield, and Riven stared in horror, the fire coming for her next. She blocked the uncanny flames with her runic blade and watched as friends and foes burned alike. The feeling of betrayal burned through her veins, and suddenly being a pawn to a political power struggle hurt. She had done everything for the empire; she had killed countless men and women, proven her loyalty time and time again. And for what? She thought.

The flames were quick to disperse leaving only chaos in its wake, and Riven rose to her feet. Legs wobbly, and a shaky mental resolve. She left the battlefield, on foot, feeling lost with her emotions, drowning on dry land. She felt broken, and home she went, to the farm where it all began. The journey was long and tiresome, she ate berries and drank out of her skin, conserving the little amount of water she had left. Much to her fortune, she stumbled upon a traveling merchant, who offered her a ride, food, and water. The soldier had nothing to offer, but the merchant was kind and expected nothing in return, and she wished him good fortune.

"Here?" The merchant asked.

"Yes, right here," said Riven softly. The merchant nodded and came to a stop pulling on the reins. She climbed out of the wagon and waved the merchant off as she began up the hill. However, the farm was no more, and the fields were desolate, the barn burnt to the ground along with the farmstead. She stared for a long while, holding her sword aloft, remembering the Elders and the troublemakers who always went after her. She didn't have any particularly fond memories here, but she had grown up on this farm, it was her childhood so to speak.

She turned her back to the demolished farmstead and wandered into the woods, the way to the playground still familiar after five years. Coming upon the playground, she suddenly felt old, the rusty swing the same as five years ago. She sat down, feeling too tall for the playground now. She had grown so much, and it surprised even her. Zac always chided her when it came to eating fruits and vegetables, but she never had that luxury. It was watered down soup and stale bread most nights. She ripped the locket off her neck, and set it down on the swing, regretting every choice she had ever made. In a fit of rage, she grabbed her sword hacking away at an unsuspecting tree, all her anger, resentment, and sorrow sinking into the hilt of her sword as she swung it madly.

She let out an agonizing cry and threw her sword wanting no more to do with it. She realized she was being childish, but she didn't care as she erupted into a stream of tears sinking against the tree. She was broken and alone. After an hour of sobbing, she picked herself up, face flushed and eyes puffy as she picked up the locket, gazing around for her discarded sword. "Looking for this?" A man asked holding her sword aloft.

It was the same man who she had found her that day, and her eyes burned with fury. It felt like she had been taken advantage of and drawing her dagger, she charged at him. The man pulled out a pistol and Riven came to an abrupt halt, she had seen the prototypes at work and knew the weapon was deadly. "Deserting is...punishable by death," he grumbled darkly. "I found you once, I can find you again."

"What are you waiting for?" she demanded, her fiery spirit extinguished on the spot.

"I expected more out of you, truly, I mean that. You were and still are a soldier, the rain can't wash away the mud," he whispered. "I was the one who took you in, but leaving you alive would reflect badly on me, so it is my job to take you out." Riven narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening on the dagger. "Turn around, and on your knees, I'll make it quick. This is your reward, for serving your empire." Some reward, she thought bitterly. However, Riven had no intention of going quietly, she would damn and curse the world before dropping to her knees, and she would go out like a soldier.

The man lowered his gun slightly, the defiance in her eyes telling him that she no longer took orders. "Soldier," he warned. He thought about shooting out her kneecaps and leaving her there to suffer, but part of him did want to give the girl a merciful death. His finger grazed the trigger, and with a final conviction he made up his mind. Seeing he was about to pull the trigger, Riven charged him, ramming her shoulder into his chest. He didn't pull the trigger then as they both fell, and with haste she straddled him bringing down her elbow, breaking his nose.

Riven's martial prowess, however, didn't reside in her close quarter combat, she was adequate but easily overpowered due to her small frame, despite being toned. The officer threw her off him, and scurried to his feet, kicking her away. Riven got to her knees wiping her mouth and glanced up at the officer holding her at gunpoint. "Son of a bitch," he cursed under his breath, pinching his nose, blood trickling down his chin.

Riven shut her eyes, covering her face as the trigger was pulled, she waited to the impact, and the pain, but it never came. She initially thought she was just in shock, but a voice called out to her. "Found you," Zac whispered. Riven opened her eyes, met with the same green boy she had met all those years back, he was much bigger, much much bigger, and her eyes trailed to his, those same yellow eyes and the antenna sticking out from the top of his head. Despite being made of goo, his body was sculpted and defined.

Zac rose, towering over the white-haired girl, glancing down to his chest, a bullet lodged in his goo. He dug around his insides and removed the bolt flicking it aside, his gaze falling on the man with the pistol. No words had to be spoken, the man dropped his pistol, all color draining from his face, and in a hurry, he ran for the woods. Zac wasted no time chasing after the man, enraged and filled with unknown emotions. But his instincts took over, and he knew one thing for sure, that man was not allowed to live.

"Zac!" Riven shouted after him, and he could hear her clumsy steps behind him, hitting every branch and twig in her way. Zac came to a halt digging his fingers in the ground, pulling back, and then he launched himself across the forest spotting the man beneath him. It was a perfect trajectory as Zac landed on the man, hardening on impact, crushing his bones. It was a slow and painful death, his goo suffocating the man until he went limp, a kill that felt most satisfactory to the green boy.

Riven caught up, flustered and out of breath. Zac was impressed she had managed to cover such a considerable distance in so little time, but his thoughts were cut short as she threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck. He shrunk down to a more compatible size and smiled his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her in closer for an embrace. "I was waiting for you," he said softly.

"I'm home," she whispered bringing the boy closer. They interlocked pinkies and smiled at each other, and the act was sentimental, a promise they had both tried to keep in their own way. "I thought you had forgotten me. I couldn't find you." Riven pulled away wiping away the tears, her head throbbed, and her senses felt off, she had cried too much in one day, she couldn't take it anymore.

"I've missed you," he cooed pressing her hand to his chest, and down he leaned pressing his forehead against hers.

"You've grown a lot," she commented, squeezing his bicep. Zac nodded noting how tall she now was and inching closer to her. He captured her lips with his moving tenderly as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

"You have too," he chuckled, flicking her forehead. "Welcome home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screw editing...takes way too long *6.6k words later* grrrr >:C
> 
> Anyway, hope your enjoyed ^^


	8. Lucian x Vayne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be the last ship I actually rewrite, the rest will just be edited, cause I'm getting nowhere rewriting everything ;-;
> 
> because: REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! 
> 
> My edits screwed up and never saved, which was fine the first time, but the third time, I lost all my motivation -100%
> 
> Moral of the story: Sometimes...fuck you google >:(

Rumors spread like wildfire amongst the gossiping citizens of small suburban cities, perfect for the likes of Vayne. Entering the tavern, the room fell silent, all eyes darting to the hooded woman, her presence alone left the tavern in a state of shock and awe. All was still except for the man behind the counter, his hands skillfully wiping the glass of any water stains, his eyes glanced up momentarily, and with a firm nod, the woman walked towards him.

The clicking of her heels echoed across the tavern, and once she reached the counter, a single odd piece of silver slid across the untamed wooden surface. The man accepted without hesitation slipping the woman a rusty key. "4th door," the bartender grunted, storing the coin into his breast pocket. The Night Huntress took the keys without another word and up the stairs she went, the tavern resuming its lively chatter. It wasn't unusual for hunters to stop by taverns, Demon Hunters or not, information was vital, and rumors were always based off something, however vague it could be.

Amongst Hunters and Huntresses, Shauna Vayne was both respected and feared. Having fought alongside the Night Hunter, some called her the Silver Devil, all that remained in her wake was a single silver bolt. Being a hunter paid well, most would never dream of battling against the dark, but Vayne, unlike her peers, took the utmost pleasure in hunting those who lurked in the shadows.

Entering the dimly lit room, Vayne took a seat on the edge of the bed crossing her legs as she pulled out a bolt, sharpening its exterior. "You're early," the man in the shadows whispered.

"I'm a busy woman," she replied her voice caustic. The man chuckled dryly and tossed her a black pouch, the coins rattling against each other.

"The rest will come after the beast has been slain." Vayne gave one slow nod pocketing the money as a rolled up piece of parchment was handed to her. Exiting the tavern, the Huntress unrolled the parchment and with a frown, and closed it back up. She took out the pouch of gold and decided it wouldn't hurt to resupply.

It was dark and murky; mist lurked in every corner, eerie silhouettes flying in and out of vision range. Vayne looked up to see a completely black sky and frowned. She came to a halt, the sound of guns ringing through the midnight sky. Another one like her, no sane hunter would step foot into the Shadow Isles. She took careful steps as the ruckus got louder and louder. She heard a crackle behind her and swiftly turned to see an undead man with a whip. She quickly bolted him to a tree and stuck another bolt through his skull. A smirk played on her lips as she realized she was surrounded.

"Entertain me won't you?" The crowd of undead took out their weapons ranging from a kitchen knife to a knight's sword. These were ordinary folks, unfortunate to fall into the grasps of darkness, unable to claw their way out as the shadows consumed them. The undead men obliged charging the Huntress of their own free will. Counting at least a dozen, she readied her crossbow, a bolt striking the nearest undead, a faint green wisp leaving his body. In unison, the men charged at her, but Vayne was agile, blending with the shadows as she repositioned impaling his skull to the bark beside her. She tripped the next undead, ramming her crossbow into his fragile structure. Another one down. With a single bolt, she pierced two undead, the wisps leaving peacefully. She disappeared in the shadows remerging with a storm of bolts, each one striking a separate undead, and heading into melee combat, the Huntress opted to use her bolt as a dagger instead of reloading finishing off the remaining undead.

She heaved a small sigh retrieving her bolts, a sliver of movement catching her eyes, and without remorse, her heel came down on the partially fractured skull, crushing it entirely. She continued on her way keeping her distance as the growing presence of darkness loomed upon her, a light tingle danced on the tip of her fingers, and whatever lied ahead, would be worth her while. However, her plans changed as she emerged from the tree lines, another fellow hunter already on the beast's trail. Lucian. The Huntress shook her head watching the hunter get thrown around like a ragged doll. She had met the man before, an unfortunate encounter that left a sizable hole in her shoulder, like her he was not one to be messed with.

Aside from disagreements though, they both held a similar goal in mind, and for that had earned each other's respect, but he wasn't one to always think ahead. He went in guns blazing and reckless as he was, paid for his consequence as the beast, turned swiftly, its tail swinging wildly through the air. Lucian dodged the initial impact, but the sheer force of the swipe left an unforgiving gust of wind. Despite her distance, Vayne felt the rush of wind and was knocked off her feet, rolling back as she caught herself on her knees. The beast prepared to finish off the hunter and Vayne clicked her tongue reloading her crossbow, and she jumped into the fray.

A single bolt was enough to pierce one of the beast's eyes causing it to flail its tail in every direction. Preparing for a tactical retreat, she shot bolt after bolt at the creature keeping it occupied as she grabbed the breathless man throwing him over her shoulders in a fireman carry. She bolted as quickly as she arrived, glancing back at the beast, its eyes unfocused and in a daze. Had it been anyone else, she might have left them for dead, but getting shot in the shoulder left quite a first impression on the woman, a grand twisted gesture, per se. Keeping a sustained jog, she aimed to get as far away from the beast as possible, throwing the hunter on her shoulder a disapproving glare as he bled all over her clothes. "This will come out of your pay," she grumbled.

"My lucky day," the man snarled.

"Shut it," the woman snapped dumping him on the ground. Lucian winced, clutching his side, his glare proving ineffective against the Huntress. She tossed him the medical kit she kept in her belt and leaned against a tree watching the man patch himself up. He struggled to properly clean his wounds, the large cut on his chest not doing him any favors.

"Feel free to help." At her lack of a response, his eyes grew pleading, and the woman rolled her eyes.

"Perhaps you should think twice next time." She took a seat in front of him crossing her legs as she drew her dagger cutting off the front of his shirt. Threading the needle, she looked at the hunter for permission, and when he gave the go-ahead, she stitched up his wound, hearing him grit his teeth, holding back a whimper she glanced up, frowning. "Quit whining."

"I had it under control," he said in a matter of fact tone.

"Mhm." She packed up the medical supplies and waited for the reckless idiot before her to fall asleep, she slumped back, resting her eyes momentarily, finger running across the tip of her bolt repeatedly. She kept guard sharpening her ammunition, taking an inventory of how many bolts were on her person. She had lost four firing at the beast and glanced to Lucian. "Moron."

Lucian awoke in the dead of night, his eyes falling on Vayne, her eyes closed but not asleep. She hummed softly to herself her foot gently tapping against the dirt, the sound muffled by her humming. "Ready to go?" Her eye shot open looking at him.

He nodded slowly mentally reciting her notes in his head, it was a lullaby, his expression grew perplexed, and as the Huntress rose, Lucian wondered if the woman had another side. Her humming reminded him of Senna, and he shook his head gathering his guns. Sharing rations, the two hunters devised a brief plan of action, which would be improvised on the spot as need be.

Tracking the beast proved easier than initially thought, its trail was not so subtle, leaving a broken path of dead trees in its wake. Having another hunter by her side, Vayne let her guard down, sparring her supplies a glance, wondering how useful her traps would be. Her feet left the ground, and she groaned dangling awkwardly as blood rushed to her head. She was face to face with Lucian, a smug grin tugging at his lips, the great Night Hunter caught in a fool's trap.

"Don't you dare-" he chuckled, amused laughter erupting from his throat, his wincing not going unnoticed. And the Huntress groaned aiming her crossbow at the rope wrapped around her ankle. Lucian beat her to it, and down she fell, her landing less than graceful as she ate dirt.

"I should have let you die," she grumbled spitting out the flakes of dirt in her mouth. Despite her annoyance, she accepted Lucian's hand and with his help, rose to her feet. Ignoring the hunter as best as she could, she dusted herself off following the tracks attentively, keeping herself on guard at all times. Finally arriving at the lair of the beast, Vayne stepped aside letting the gunman settle beside her, their eyes trailing down the abyss like hole in the ground.

"Well, ladies first," Lucian smiled cocking his guns towards the hole. "I am a gentleman, after all."

"Right." Vayne sucked in a breath and glanced down, the sheer amount of power emanating from the hole was enough to put her on edge, but her worry resided with however deep the hole was. She unclicked the grappling hook around her waist and stepped back wrapping the wire around the bark of a tree making sure to secure it, and giving it three good tugs, she nodded. Wrapping the wire around her hand twice, she peered down into the abyss and took another deep breath, she glanced to Lucian almost expectantly, but he conveniently looked away, and she was unsure what to think of him. The wire was long, long enough for the drop? Maybe. It logically made sense for her to go first, she was the uninjured one out of two, and besides she would have done so anyway, Lucian was never a part of the equation. Noting that factor in the back of her mind, she took a leap of faith and dropped into the hole, leaving the comfortable presence of the man beside her.

Sticking close to the wall, she bounced a few times, making sure to keep her distance consistent from jump to jump. The wire was suddenly cut, and she cursed Lucian into oblivion, only to realize how short her end of the cable was. Brutally hitting the floor, Vayne rolled to her side, lungs stinging from the lack of oxygen. That fall had knocked the air out of her, but that was the least of her worries as she scurried to her feet. Darkness was the only one to meet her halfway, and something she could have once called an ally was now the enemy. Enveloped by darkness, she opened her ears and listened for the faintest of sounds, but hearing nothing, she tensed, feeling more uncomfortable than ever.

She had faced the dark before, she had conquered it, yet it felt all too unknown for one who had lived in darkness for so many years. "Vayne!" A voice shouted from above, she glanced up hoping the see the pit of light from where she stood, but her vision was shrouded in complete darkness. She took a step forward, her arms extended trying to find a wall, she could not make out the terrain either, and the lighter Vayne had packed was in her medical pouch, the one she had handed to Lucian. 

A flare lit up amidst the darkness, plunging the surrounding area in a blinding light, and Vayne froze, coming face to face with the beast, its large talons digging at the dirt beside her. How had she not heard it? Snapping its jaw at the Huntress, Vayne rolled out of the way scurrying for her crossbow as she prepared a bolt, firing it instantly. It was a direct hit, but the beast did not falter, it thrashed, swinging in every direction, and although Vayne was known to be an agile hunter, the creature was much too bulky for her to evade, and she lost her balance, the beast's limb throwing her back.

Vayne landed flat on her back, rolling in the dirt, she came to a halt with a small coughing fit and glanced at the pair of boots before her, her lips twitching into a disapproving sneer. However, the amusement the hunter once held had utterly dissolved, leaving only a man and his burning fury for revenge. Gripping his guns a little tighter than he might have intended, he dashed towards the creature firing a volley of shots, Vayne had to admit it was quite impressive. She couldn't fire as quickly as him due to having to reload, but for what her silver bolts lacked in speed, they made up for in damage. The bolts were sharp and could pierce through almost any living being.

Realizing she had been staring, Vayne gathered herself and got to her feet with difficulty, pain coursing through her chest, it wasn't every day one was sent flying 15 meters back, she was at least thankful the ground was somewhat mushy, or she might have broken more than a few bones. She shot another flare into the air and watched as the light pierced through the darkness illuminating her way, feeling silly for not thinking of using them sooner. She grabbed her back up grappling hook and charged at the creature climbing onto its back while it was occupied with Lucian. With all her might, Vayne dug the metal hooks into the beast's flesh, making sure it was secured. The monster roared, flailing its limbs in random directions causing Lucian to back off. Vayne was thrown off his back, but the hooks remained trapped in the monster's flesh, and Vayne smirked holding onto the wire.

Running around the monster, she slid between his legs and wrapped up the beast until she could no longer pull on the wire. And looping the end four times, the creature found itself unable to move. Reaching for her bag, Vayne dumped it onto the ground lighting the fuse of the explosive-filled bag. She hauled ass and grabbed Lucian's arm interrupting his shoot-out with the beast, but the man had half a brain cell not to question her, and he picked up the pace, not glancing back at their target.

Vayne hadn't fallen far, but it had been an unexpected fall, which shook her momentarily. Aiming her last flare gun, Vayne fired to illuminate the area, and the shimmering silver of the wire caught her attention. Lucian quickly caught on and scaled the wall with a running start, latching onto the wire, and for once she thanked his long legs. He wrapped it three times around his hand, and Vayne frowned as he extended his leg rather than his hand, and throwing her pride aside she gripped onto the hunter's leg, climbing up until she had a good grip on his shoulders.

"Up we go," Lucian grunted climbing up the wire with much difficulty due to Vayne's added weight. He was sure her equipment was heavier than her, but he kept his mouth shut clinging onto the rope for dear life as the explosion took the two by storm. The aftershock sent the two crashing into the wall. The impact was brutal, and Vayne's hold slipped, but Lucian had no intention of letting the woman drop to her death, and his iron grip clamped around her wrist, unsure how long he could hold onto her. "Didn't your mother tell you playing with explosives was dangerous?"

"She may have mentioned it," Vayne mumbled glancing down at the rubble underneath them.

"Ditch your equipment," the man said, a deep sigh escaping him as his arm ached from the absurd amount of weight pulling him down. Vayne gave him an incredulous look, but she obliged and let her utility belt drop, along with the various supplies she had bought. Left with only her crossbow and a few bolts, Vayne climbed ahead of Lucian, making sure to step on his head in the process, a petty form of payback, but she felt no shame whatsoever. Reaching the top, she glanced down to Lucian and extended her hand, helping him out of the hole.

"Well could have gone worse," Vayne commented dryly pushing up her glasses. She took them off inspecting the crack in the velvet lenses. "Nevermind." Lucian gazed in an absent state of mind. He had never seen her eyes before but, he found himself oddly captivated by them, her midnight hues left quite the impression on him. It made her features overall look softer, especially in contrast to the intimidating expression her glasses maintained.

"Are you feeling alright?" She gave him a questioning look. "You were manhandled rather roughly."

"Nothing time won't heal," she said waving him off. "The job has been completed, thank you for your help, till we next meet." Lucian watched her walk away, a small stagger in her steps and shook his head, she was a strong woman, and too prideful to ask for his help, but he had been hoping to keep her company for a while longer. Having lost Senna opened a void of companionship. He missed it, though Vayne was not the best person to seek it from, she was like him, a Hunter of the Night, chasing after the dark, no matter the price. Victory or Death.

But perhaps it wasn't meant to be.

Back at the same old tavern, Vayne came in, her heels clicking against the hard wooden floors. She did not bother with her cloak, mostly because she had lost it on the job, and all she wanted was to finish her contract, be on her way, and perhaps enjoy a good bath. "Welcome back," the owner whispered tossing the key in her direction. With a nod the huntress left for the second floor, she never bothered to use the key as the door was already unlocked, and in she walked.

"You're late," the man acknowledged, bowing his head in respect.

"Technical difficulties," Vayne murmured. The man genuinely chuckled and tossed a black pouch on the bed — the coins rattling against each other. On close inspection though, there were two pouches on the bed, and the Huntress looked at the man, a quizzical glare in her eyes. Had the man not told her everything, her hand idly rested on her crossbow, and the cloaked shadow smiled, a passive smile not quite reaching his tone.

"A man left this for you. He said it was compensation."

Lucian.

"I see. The contract has been completed, leave me." The man nodded and exited out of the room leaving Vayne to ponder over the second pouch of gold. For once, she was grateful of her reputation, she did not need to provide a trophy, her words alone spoke volumes, but on that note, she might as well put the money to good use. Heading back down to the lower floor, she settled at the counter, paying the bartender for her drink. "Ale is fine."

"You seemed like a woman with more taste," the man beside her spoke, his rough voice all too familiar to the Huntress.

"Is something wrong with Ale?" She questioned, glancing to the bartender, but the human would definitely not be taking sides, he turned around, pretending as though he had seen and heard nothing. "Well no matter, I do owe you a drink after all."

"Don't say that when you're using my money to pay," the hunter chuckled, taking a sip of the drink before him.

"Finders keepers."

"Is that so? Well, don't come crying when I take your next hunt."

"Upping your stalking game, that's not very charming." Vayne snorted.

"Is that what they call it now, stalking?"

"I hope you don't plan on putting a bullet in me again."

"I'd rather take a bullet than a bolt."

"Fair enough," Vayne smiled downing the mug of ale. "I'll be sure to put your coins to good use." At that, Lucian gave a sarcastic smile and watched as the woman rose from the stool, preparing to head out.

"Cya around, partner."

"I am not your-" Vayne paused, and for the first time, she puffed her cheeks stomping off. It had been a while since the darkness did not feel as though it loomed above, ready to strike, ready to engulf her in its maddening lullabies.


	9. Darius x Lux

"Garen!" Yelled Lux, retreating to his side, her prismatic barrier surrounding him, the dozen arrows heading his way crashing against the wall of light disintegrating mid-flight. She reached her brother, resting a hand on his shoulder, prying off his palm to inspect his wound, undeniable worry in her blue hues.

"It's just a flesh wound," her brother grunted. Lux frowned but knew that despite his pride, his body would not deny the damage he had suffered. Luxanna slumped slightly, gazing at the surrounding area, another diplomatic conflict between Demacia and Noxus. She sighed. And the tides of battle did not look upon them favorably. Hearing a chuckle behind her, Lux looked to see none other than Darius the Hand of Noxus. She scowled, hugging Garen, keeping her treasured sibling close at her side.

With raging determination, Lux drew her staff throwing various spells to keep the man at bay as she shook her brother. She wouldn't call herself weak by any means, but her brother was quite literally a wall, and there was no way she would be carrying him without breaking her back. Darius sidestepped her spells, chuckling at the sorcerer's feeble attempt. "Wake up, Garen," she hissed slapping his cheek hard. Opening his eyes faintly, Garen gripped his sister's hand, squeezing it reassuringly, but Lux knew better, miracles did not happen, and today would be no different.

Darius raised his axe, inhaling the scent of victory before him, bloodshed he would relish in for decades to come, he could already hear his name off the lips of the empire. Glory. With the last of his strength, Garen parried the blow, shoving his sister away, collapsing to his knees. If dying was all that was left, he would die protecting her at the very least. Lux was small and could outrun a fully geared man, but he forgot to factor in her stubbornness as she held onto his arm, refusing to let go. "Idiot," Garen whispered. Blood loss and fatigue finally getting the best of him as he collapsed. Lux's mind froze momentarily; she was smart, and she could figure a way out of this, she always did. It wasn't merely because of her brother, she could not let the Might of Demacia fall, he was the people's hope, and along with him, would Demacia fall.

Darius grinned, finally seeing his chance to finish his greatest rival, it felt anti-climatic, he always pictured his opponent dying after a duel to the death, but a victory was a victory nonetheless, honor aside. Gripping his battle axe with both hands, he shrugged at the little sorcerer and swung. Without thinking Lux covered her brother's body with her own, and just as his axe was about to land, he stopped, a mere inch away from the girl's neck. The proud Crownguard glared at Darius, who looked indifferent about the situation, but his actions proved contradictory. Seeing as they were surrounded, Lux used the remainder of her magic teleporting her brother away in a flash of blinding light.

She could only take him so far, but it was unlikely Noxian soldiers would find him. She had memorized the battlefield, every nook, and cranny of it, and having her brother out of harm's way, she was relieved. She did not seem too concerned about what would happen to her. "Luxanna Crownguard, the Lady of Luminosity. Capture her," Darius grumbled, pinching the crook of his nose as he walked away. He glanced down to his axe, and tightened his grip, why had he hesitated? In one fell swoop, he could have killed the siblings, but he had shown mercy...mercy? Darius did not do mercy. Lux did not resist, and she let the Noxian men take her away.

Once the troops finally made their way back to their encampment, Darius was to supervise over the Crownguard, not trusting his men to handle the little girl. She was stripped of all possible weapon(s) and armor leaving her in her navy skin-tight bodysuit. She felt naked without the protection of her armor, and her weapon was also gone, she was unable to channel magic without her staff. Sitting in the back of her cell, she peered through the bars, past the crack in the opening of the tent, dim lights reflecting in her hues, it was getting dark. The opening to the tent opened, a blinding light forcing her eyes to narrow. Darius walked in and looked at the curled up ball of blonde hair in the corner of the cell. He threw her a piece of bread, and out of reflex, Lux caught it, inspecting the food.

"It's not poisoned, if I wanted you killed, I would have done so." He did have a point there, but Lux knew better than to trust a Noxian, she did not rule out the possibility of him simply wanting to watch a slow a painful death, seemed like a Noxian thing to do. "So you have teleportation magic too?" The blonde ignored him, deciding to take a bite of the bread anyway, death would be better than having to listen to the bastard. Hearing the cell door open, however, Lux's attention fell on Darius, looming menacingly above her. He grabbed her collar, the piece of bread falling to the floor, as her feet left the ground. "I don't like being ignored."

Lux remained silent, staring at his chest. In a fit of annoyance, Darius threw her, her body hitting the bars before falling back down to the ground, her eyes trailing to the piece of bread laying before her. She groaned, too exhausted to consider moving and closed her eyes, she could wait till she recovered her powers to hatch a plan out of this mess. But deep down she knew Garen would come for her. Darius glanced back hoping he hadn't been too violent, but the little shrimp could handle herself. Besides, it was best to keep her in one piece, for the time being. A single thought rushed through his mind, that shrimp was Garen's beloved sister, and he slammed his fist on the table, unsure where that thought was even leading him. And in another fit of annoyance, he exited the tent, leaving a young boy in charge of guarding the prisoner of war.

Garen woke up feeling his whole body clench and lock up in pain, looking around, the place seemed familiar, but his memory was still fuzzy. He was thankful for his inhuman recovery speed and sat up rolling his shoulders with a grunt. His wounds had closed by now, and Garen glanced around, how long had he been out? He didn't know. But first thing was first, he had to regroup with his unit, or at least what was left of it, and from there reunite with his battalion. The thought struck him then; he used to train here, Lux keeping him company from time to time, polishing up her magic, back when she guarded the knowledge of her powers. Lux. A growl escaped his lips then, anger flaring in his eyes. "That...Idiot!"

Lux hadn't seen Darius for a whole day, for that she was quite thankful, he was definitely intimidating. She was grateful the boy in charge of her was young and full of spirit, he was easy to talk to, and did not treat her as the enemy. But she grew annoyed at times, the boy was too chatty for guard duty, and more than once had she found herself on the edge of snapping. But he was pleasant company, he was well educated, and his knowledge of books would be unrivaled by his fellow peers. He also shared his meals with her, the stale pieces of bread not quite doing her stomach justice. Unknown to her of Darius' eavesdropping past the thin layers of fabric separating the two.

Breaking out proved harder than she first imagined, she couldn't bend steel as Garen could, and she found herself quite literally useless without her staff. In the morning, Lux awoke, expecting to find the young boy named Tommy, but instead, she was met with Darius, and her smile dropped. "Don't you seem happy to see me," the brute smirked. He noticed her dejected look and sighed. "The brat was sent off the to frontlines. You won't be seeing him again; he's unlikely to return." Lux kept silent, knowing she shouldn't feel guilty, but the boy was different.

"Talk to me," Darius spat. Shaking her head, Lux averted her eyes, having little interest in the manslaughterer outside of her cell. Hearing the door open, she stiffened up and glanced just in time to see the door close, the Hand of Noxus taking a seat in front of her. His eyes glared at her, and the sorcerer mimicked his look, defiance all too present. "Am I that scary?" Without looking, Lux shrugged.

A moment of silence later, Darius got up and left, and she was surprised he hadn't let his violent, impulsive behavior get the better of him. Curling back up into her ball of despair, she hoped her brother was alright, but her worries soon faded, he was the Might of Demacia. The sound of metal echoed through the cell, and Lux glanced up to see Darius with two trays of food. He opened her cell and closed it again, once again sitting in front of her. He set down both trays, his eyes intently on her, trying to figure a tactful approach. "Eat."

Looking at the food, Lux wasn't in the mood to eat, but she did anyway, taking a bite here and there, but mostly, she picked at her food. "Not hungry?" She nodded once more, and he took her tray of food devouring it within seconds, almost reminding her of Garen. But her eyes narrowed, disgusted that she had just compared her brother to the honorless savage before her. "It's bad to waste food ya know." He had a point and once more did she nod much to his annoyance. He grabbed her chin gently forcing her to look up at him. "Why won't you talk?" She remained silent until one word escaped her lips merely to prove him wrong. 

"Because." 

"Because isn't a good enough reason," he barked, his fist slamming into the bar beside her head, making the young blonde jump. Darius inhaled, fully aware that he had just scared the girl, and any chance he had at conversation, he had just blown it. Shouting echoed in the distance and Darius turned to Lux groaning as he tied her hands together.

"Hey!" She desperately tried to kick him, but without the help of magic, that proved futile against a man made of pure muscle. She cursed him, insults he didn't know the little shrimp had in her, and in one fell swoop, she headbutted his chest. Darius lost his patience and shoved a rag in her mouth, blindfolding her in the process, only the humming sound of rage could be heard from the other side of the cloth.

"Calm down woman," he tossed the Demacian over his shoulder, grabbing his axe and making his way out of the tent. To be expected, he thought to himself. Perfect timing as they had just sent off half of their men to the frontlines. He was tempted to join the fight, but leading the charge was none other than Garen himself, and his priority, for the time being, was Lux. As much as he wished to bloody his axe, failing to kill the Might of Demacia and losing a valuable prisoner of war, he would never hear the end of it. Outnumbered, there was little hope of winning, and when on the losing side, prisoners were usually executed, it seemed like a waste, so the Noxian went with his gut and escaped from the encampment.

He spotted Garen in the distance, and hastened his steps, heading into the deep end of the woods. He set lux down on a very uncomfortable looking trunk and undid the blindfold, immediately getting headbutted. He glared at her, his eyes softening, but still stern as he warned her not to do anything rash. "No misbehaving." Lux nodded, but of course, had other plans in mind. The second he turned his back, she rose to her feet, sprinting as fast as she could, unknown to her that she was only heading deeper into the woods. Darius sighed to himself, he liked her much better when she was tied up and silent.

He chased after her, not expecting her to get all that far with tied hands and being unable to breathe properly with the gag, it was apparent from her slender figure that she didn't work out much either. Catching up to her, he tackled her, pinning the sorcerer to the ground. She squirmed thrashing is every direction until he glared at her. Lux stopped and stared into his eyes, he was intimidating, but there was also something else. Darius scowled at her and with a sigh, he spoke, "What did I day about misbehaving?"

He stood up and grabbed her wrist forcing her up to her feet. A low growl rang through the air, and Darius turned around ready to face whatever came for them. To his dissatisfaction, it was just a mere bear, a massive one, but still. The bear looked between the two of them, and Darius grabbed Lux shoving him behind his person as he wrestled the furry bastard with his bare hands, it wasn't the first time he had killed a bear, and it wouldn't be the last either. Darius whirled around and beheaded the bear with his axe, he looked down to Lux, her eyes wide, with what seemed to be admiration.

Kneeling before her, he removed the balled up cloth from her mouth, tossing it behind him. "What you've never seen a man fight a bear before?" To that, Lux scoffed, confident Garen could wrestle a bear no problem. "I didn't see you contributing," he sneered.

"You seemed busy enough," she retorted. Wrapping his arms around the blonde, Darius brought her in for an unexpected embrace, and Lux stiffened. "What are you doing..?"

"Holding you?" he questioned to himself. Lux's hands twitched, and in an instant, a clapping sound reverberated through the forest, catching the Noxian off guard. Unexpected to her, Darius laughed, a booming laughter that had the girl contemplating his mental state.

"Find her, or General Jericho will have our heads." Lux stiffened, acutely aware of the name rolling off of the soldier's lips. Jericho Swain, ruthless and a downright bastard who only believed in the power of logic and brute force. Prisoner of war or not, if he got his hands on her, it would mean a sure death, and more than ever now, the gears in her head began running at full speed. Darius had proven faster than anticipated even fully geared, and wrestling a bear with his bare hands spoke volumes. She couldn't expect to overpower him, but she could outwit him. Men like him believed in violence to solve every situation, and for men like him, such a solution would rarely prove to be the wrong one.

"Behave," he warned, pressing his index finger to her lips. He turned his back to the sorcerer, axe in hand, unsure what he was doing. His cape settled at his heels covering up the young blonde as the bushes rustled, a small company of men walking through.

"Commander!" One of the men saluted.

"Glad yer okay, must be hunting down the blonde whore, eh? Escaped her cell that little-" the soldier quieted, the commander's full attention on him. His glare was all too menacing for the soldier to ignore. But Darius knew better than to call the soldier out on it; he would give himself away. However the Hand of Noxus didn't have to, a quieted sneeze escape the sorcerer, and he scowled, unsure who he should kill. Yet he could not blame the girl, and he had dragged her out into the forest, even he was getting a bit chilly.

A tense silence settled, and the soldiers nudged each other. "We'll keep searching, commander." As the men prepared to turn, Darius swung his axe slicing the man in half, preparing to tear through the rest of soldiers fully aware that he was committing treason, but what Swain didn't know wouldn't hurt him. No guilt was present. None was to be held, even Noxians could be assholes, and Darius would know, he was the biggest of them all. Besides, there was no way in hell those soldiers didn't know. But those men knew better than to face Darius himself, it was certain death, and so they fled. But too much was on the line for him to let the men escape.

He glanced back to Lux, her eyes wide, unsure what she should be feeling or thinking. Her plan of action had taken a sharp halt. This wasn't a part of her plan, she never thought Darius would be killing his own, they did after all address him with respect...or fear. With a sigh, he glared at the blonde knowing her all too well after his many conflicts with her. The second he took off after those men, she would inevitably run, and as clumsy as the girl was, would probably get hurt before she could get anywhere. And so doing the only logical thing he could do, he tied her to a tree, and she gasped, her eyes incredulous.

"Don't you dare leave-" jabbing her side with his index finger, she squealed kicking his chest, but that proved ineffective.

"Quiet," he snapped grabbing her ankle, guiding her foot back to the ground. With that out of the way, Darius hunted down the remaining soldiers, taking them down one by one. "Cowards," Darius growled, dragging his axe out of the soldier's skull. He heard a faint crack and smirked heading for the last remaining soldier. He quite enjoyed this little hunt, more than he should have, but perhaps that was due to the men's choice of words, only one had spoken, but they were all thinking it.

In a fit of rage, Lux tugged at the leather strap binding her to the tree, but to no avail. She let out a frustrated cry and began biting away at the leather, but only managed to hurt her teeth in the process. "Stupid, stupid, stupid-" she stopped, the rustling of nearby bushes catching her attention. "Darius?" Hugging the bark, she watched intently, her heart dropping as she watched a Noxian soldier emerge from the brushes.

"Crazy bastard," the soldier muttered to himself unsheathing a sharp dagger and Lux took a deep breath preparing for the worst. The man, however, cut off the leather bindings, and Lux saw her opportunity. She headbutted the man, grabbing the dagger out of his hands and buried it into his chest. Sadly the metal did not travel far as it caught in the soldier's chainmail. "Crazy bitch!" He yelled. Lux scoffed and took a step back, retreating quickly as she found herself unable to pull out the dagger. She scolded herself for not going for the neck, but if this soldier was here, had Darius been slain? She couldn't fathom the idea; he was the Hand of Noxus.

Drawing his sword the soldier rushed at her, and she evaded the blow, finding a single soldier a lot less intimidating than her brother or Darius. An angry Garen was not a friendly Garen, sibling or not. She rammed her shoulder into the man, throwing him off balance as they fell. Lux straddled the soldier her hands scurrying for the large stone residing by his side and heaved it up, slamming it down on the soldier's face, the stone spitting blood in every direction as she relentlessly mauled away at his face, till he went limp. Survival the only word running through her mind.

With one final breath, Lux rose to her feet dropping the stone at her side. A scoff caught her off guard, and she turned around swiftly, relieved to see it was only Darius. "I didn't think you had it in you, princess."

"Don't call me that," she spat defensively wiping the blood from her cheeks only to smear it. Darius chuckled stalking over to her, his thumb rubbing away at the blood. And then, she slapped him, hard, but this time, he wasn't laughing.

"That was a one time pass," he growled, grabbing her wrist, his large hand not relenting.

"Are you going to kill me?" She whispered, her eyes trailing to the bloody axe. He rose a brow, releasing the blonde and then cocked his head to the dead soldier he had split in half just a few feet away. "Commander gone rogue?" She mused.

"Too rogue," he agreed, cupping Lux's cheek, his lips crashing against hers. It was quick, clumsy, and rough, but heat rushed up the blonde's cheeks as she pulled away covering her mouth. "Never thought the little princess would be my type, to be honest."

"What is wrong with you!" She yelled pointing an accusatory finger at him. Darius shrugged, a cocky grin that was strangely charming tugged at his lips.

"A lot of things."

"How dare you-you take a poor maiden's first kiss!" Darius glanced down at the man's face she had just deformed with a reasonably large stone and rose his brow. The first kiss, however, he felt rather proud of that one.

"Doesn't have to be the last."

"I don't get you!" She cried out in frustration, unable to contain her embarrassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pew Pew~
> 
> 2nd best ship


	10. Bard x Sona

The sky was blue, and the sun shone brightly upon the land of Demacia. And there was something mystical in the air, alluring, unusual, but most of all, magical. The Wandering Caretaker entered the forest, his meeps close by his side, the low hum of chimes following in his wake. The animals came out of hiding, all charmed by his presence, lured and lulled to follow the otherworldly creature. His gentle personality proved too much for the animals to resist and like birds, they came flocking by the dozen. Some merely to follow him, and others bold enough to try their luck, chasing after the meeps, intent on sating their curiosity.

Sona emerged from her room, a long flowing blue dress trailing at her heels, and taking slow, careful steps down the stairway, she entered the kitchen feeling all too nervous. Her adoptive mother stared her down, nodding in approval at her choice of attire. "You look lovely, dear. No need to be nervous, you'll blow those gawker's chords away."

Sona smiled walking over to her etwahl, peering over the finely crafted strings. She shook her head, her fingers grazing the strings before she let out a beautiful note, one filled with worry, but also excitement. Her excitement had been misperceived by her mother as the thrilling sensation of being on stage, but no, Sona felt a mysterious presence about, one she could not convey in melodic notes alone. "Is something wrong?" Her mother asked.

As if remembering that melody wasn't the only way to communicate, she grabbed a quill and a sheet of paper writing down one lone word on the parchment. Mystical. Her mother seemed dazed by the singular word, unsure what Sona was trying to get at, but whatever it was, she would show her support, and with a faint smile, she hugged her daughter, wishing her good luck on her performance.

After a nutritious breakfast, Sona was out the door bidding her mother goodbye. She walked through the forest, the faint hum of chimes greeting her ears. She had never heard anything like it before, she could feel the chimes, physically reverberating in her chest, through her whole body, through the tips of her fingers, calling to her, beckoning for her to follow, and so she did.

It was a call she could not resist, and curiosity got the better of her, with every chime, echoed a pure note of undeniable beauty. A note of love, tenderness, and passion, and soon Sona was not the only one brimming with curiosity. The young Maven watched as a figure whirled past her, taking the fallen leaves with it, and once the leaves settled, he was gone, and Sona concluded that it must have been her imagination. And the chimes faded into thin air, sinking into the silence of the forest, the animals returning to their groves.

Her anxiousness had faded altogether, and with a spring in her steps, Sona made her way to the concert hall. Arriving on stage, she seated herself, gazing at her audience, at least a hundred people had shown up, and subconsciously she smiled, relieved that the accusations of her witchcraft had not swayed her audience. She took a deep breath, her fingers gently grazing the strings of her etwahl, embedding it with magic, as a melody echoed in exchange through the concert room. The song swirled into the air, a beautiful display of notes melded together in perfect unity, beating within the audience's hearts, a momentary abatement to their worries and stress.

And for those to first experience Sona's melody, they knew what it felt like to feel as light as a feather. After her performance, the Maven of Strings took a bow, a polite smile on her lips as her audience clapped furiously. No matter how much Sona tried, she still found herself embarrassed from all the praise she received. Despite her minor stage fright, however, all of her doubts and anxiety went away, and all her emotions conveyed itself through her melody, but the moment did not last forever. Leaving her to wonder who she was playing for in the end. 

Full of joy, the Maven skipped through the forest, letting the animals follow in her tracks. Realizing she had attracted yet another audience, this one much cuter than the last, she twirled around to face the animals and took a seat on a log. With her etwahl situated, she began to play for the animals, her smile only widening with their excited chirping.

A note echoed behind her, and the Maven turned around, etwahl loosely resting in her lap. Sona wasn't all too sure what she was looking at, the man—or so she assumed—was large, long white hair flowing down his chest tied together at the end, his garb unfamiliar to the people of her region. His golden mask took her by surprise, and it wasn't simply the mask she realized, his face had an unearthly glow, almost divine. One of the meeps climbed onto Bard's shoulder, waving at the Maven of Strings, her music enough to move the lesser spirit into action.

She found herself fascinated, rudely gaping at the mysterious creature. Sona sensed no hostility, and lowered her guard, playing a beautiful note for the wanderer. Bard reciprocated her note with his own, a sound that reverberated her very heart, it was indeed him. Mystical. Bard took a seat beside Sona, his meeps climbing onto her lap. She poked one out of curiosity, and to her horror, the meep popped, releasing an otherworldly noise, and vanishing into thin air.

Sona freaked out, glancing in every direction, her eyes eventually falling on Bard's, guilt drowning her hues. He tapped her shoulder pointing towards the sky and Sona glanced up, the meep she had just poked falling back into her lap through a faint portal, to which she assumed came from another plane of existence, it was fascinating.

The Maven stared at Bard, utterly mesmerized until he pointed a finger towards her etwahl. Sona smiled back, her fingers gracefully moving across the strings, emitting a gorgeous melody, one that in turn felt unfamiliar to the wanderer, but it resonated with him, and he let out a content hum. Caught up in the moment, Bard gathered his meeps, the two playing together without a care in the world, it was the first time Sona felt so connected to an individual. It felt as though she had found a new part of herself, one she had been searching for for years. A smile spread across her lips, Bard mimicking her, the animals chirping and dancing around them.

As the sky tinted to a kaleidoscope of warm colors, Sona lowered her etwahl, the music coming to a slow and steady stop. Bard understood and nodded for the Maven to go, following closely behind her, adamant on escorting his new companion. The meeps took turns emitting their own notes, desperately trying to resume the beat, but Bard shook his head, and the meeps grew silent, following obediently. Sona internally giggled, her voice unable to reach the outside world, an angelic voice that would forever remain trapped in the confines of her throat. 

However, her sweet smile did not go unnoticed by the wanderer and bowing a goodbye to the Maven, he remained at the edge of the woods, watching the young girl take her leave. Sona glanced over her shoulder, a tender smile on her lips, one hand idly resting on her instrument as the other waved at the ethereal creature.

For the first time, Sona felt understood, she did not need to display her feelings through the string of her etwahl, it was as if he could read her soul, and she found herself even more intrigued. Because could he? However glancing back to the forest, she heard a faint whisper in the back of her mind. "Have a good night," the Wandering Caretaker said. And once again, Sona was delighted that she had met this beautiful creature, who she could connect to, never had she responded so strongly to anyone, not even her mother.

The next morning, Sona rushed out of her room and into the kitchen. Her mother watched her rush about, taking out all the ingredients needed to make a respectable sandwich. Watching closely, her mother noticed two extra slices of bread, and her smirk grew. "Do you have a date?" Sona turned to her mother a small o on her lips as she shook her head rather quickly. Crossing her arms to indicate a sharp no, even though blood rushed to her cheeks, Sona hadn't lied, it wasn't a date, per se.

"So it's not a date?" her mother mused. And Sona nodded with a gentle smile, her hand gesturing to her etwahl, carefully placed on the dining table, prepped and ready to go. "Ah, it's a musical date!" Her mother squealed, and Sona frowned but shrugged anyhow, knowing her mother would never drop the subject of who she was setting out to see. "Oh, my little darling is growing up so fast!"

Turning around, her mother wiped a fake tear, and Sona frowned, rolling her eyes at her mother's melodramatic display of emotions. But she couldn't help the small smile, she looked so proud, and it was a good feeling. Gently tapping her mother's shoulder, Sona indicated that she would be on her way now, and her mother gave a nervous chuckle apologizing for her parental outburst.

The Maven zipped out the door, picnic basket in hand, etwahl floating beside her. Entering the woods, she smiled waving at the meep that was awaiting her, and like a gentleman, the lesser spirit escorted her. Gazing around, eager to meet her new friend, her lack of attention caught her off guard, and her foot caught in a root, and down she fell into the leaves and dirt. She groaned internally and propped herself up removing the idle leaf glued to her forehead.

Sadness filled her hues, as she gazed at the picnic basket, the sandwiches had unfortunately not made it. She picked one up staring at the dirt smothered bread, and she felt water well up in her eyes. They were just sandwiches, and she wasn't sure why it upset her so much, but it just did. "Now, little one, no need for tears," Bard cooed, his finger brushing away a lone tear. Sona looked up, her eyes meeting with the kind wanderer and nodded. She wanted to wipe her eyes, but her hands were covered in dirt, and so she lowered them.

Bard did her the honor as he lifted the hem of his garb, wiping her tears, the meeps helping to freshen up the young maiden. Bard rested a gentle hand on her head, and kneeled down picking up one of the sandwiches, he dusted off the dirt and took a bite, and Sona reached out in protest, but Bard stopped her taking another bite. A little bit of dirt wouldn't kill the traveled wanderer, but Sona looked so distressed, he found it uncharacteristically adorable.

"So this is what humans call a sandwich?" He spoke inside her mind, taking another bite. She nodded still flabbergasted by his wholesome gesture. "Wonderful!" Her heart warmed, and she settled down, letting him enjoy his new found discovery. His meeps fought over the second sandwich, and Sona smiled glancing up at Bard. He seemed delighted over the sandwiches and was glad when the animals chimed in, the meeps sharing their portion with the animals, such kind, and loving creatures, she thought to herself. 

Sona eventually had to break up the meeps and animals, splitting up the sandwich by hand and giving everyone a small portion. Bard leaned down, his finger wiping off a drop of mayo from her nose, and to her surprise, the Wandering Caretaker licked his finger. She blushed, and covered her nose, wiping it ferociously with the hem of her sleeve. How embarrassing, she thought to herself. As the hours passed, the two grew comfortable together, Bard lying his head across her lap as Sona played a string of songs for the wanderer, every one holding a different emotion.

"Would you like to come see my performance tomorrow?" She thought, and reading her mind, Bard glanced up, his eyes meeting hers as he smiled, nodding slowly. He found his movements slow, and his reactions lacking. There was something about Sona's presence, calm and soothing, and he found himself at ease, a feeling he never wanted to part with, but it wasn't just the feeling. His chimes hummed softly in sync with Sona's notes, melody plunging the forest in serenity.

Before long, Bard had fallen asleep, his snores soft, and somehow musical, they had a certain rhythm to them that Sona couldn't place her finger on. She ran her hand through his hair, his soft texture surprising her, even her hair wasn't that soft. "Where I come from, caressing one's hair is a form a deep affection," Bard spoke. Sona chuckled softly, it wasn't much different here, and she did have a deep affection for the wanderer. He read her thoughts vividly, and Bard smiled resting a hand on hers, intertwining their fingers.

Another blush crept up the young maiden's cheeks, and she averted her eyes, but her fingers remained laced with his, her heart pounding violently in her chest. She found it weird, the amount of affection they had shared over the course of two days, she couldn't explain the connection, but it felt, genuine, if perfection was a reality, then she had found it. And gazing down at Bard, she wished she had found him sooner.

The next day, Sona wore her finest dress heading to the concert hall, prepared to put on the greatest show of her life, not for her audience, but for Bard, and him alone. Taking a seat on her usual bench, she glanced at the audience before her spotting Bard in the very back, leaning against the decorational railing. It was not unusual for ethereal creatures to attend one of her many performances, the news of her legendary skills had spread through the whole of Runeterra, so none took notice.

As Sona's fingers glided across the strings, a note full of passion rang out through the concert hall, directed at Bard himself. A melody of love, art, and passion swirling through the air like magic. And Bard felt every note in his very soul, and then and there, he had found love. A pure love he had sought for centuries, and here she sat before him, baring her soul to him. Her heart opened, waiting to be claimed, by him and him alone, and looking at the young Maven, he made his move.

Floating through the thick crowd that was her audience, Bard landed on stage, his meeps close at his heels. And while the crowd looked on in confusion, Sona only smiled, her fingers not stopping the rhythm she had acquired, and then Bard joined in, his meeps and chimes, falling into rhythm with her's. It was indeed perfection, and the crowd was engulfed in a passionate exchange of love between the two.

After the concert, Sona and Bard walked back into the forest, and the wanderer expressed his love openly for the Maven of Strings. Cupping her small hand in his, he squeezed gently, pressing her hand to his heart. Sona smiled and leaned down, kissing his knuckles in a show of affection, knowing he would not care for the traditionalism of gender roles. As the sky tinted orange, the two pressed their foreheads together, a loving smile on both their lips. "I'll be waiting for you, little one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, you have to admit, they would make such a good pair 10/10 <3
> 
> Hope you Enjoyed~~


	11. Yasuo x Riven

Yasuo stood before the corpse of his master, unsure where it had all gone wrong. Perhaps he should have never left, and if so, none of this would have happened. Loosely gripping his sword, he turned around to face the Ionian soldiers, their eyes determined to bring him to justice. "Put your trust in Ionian steel," Yasuo whispered to himself, glancing at his blade. He turned on his heels and took a seat, placing his sword in front of him.

"It wasn't me," he said coolly gazing back to his master, consumed with guilt and sorrow. Yet the wound on his master's chest looked all too similar to his wind technique. He knew he hadn't been the one to commit murder. However, the same could not be said of the soldiers before him.

"Don't listen to his foolish words, kill him!" The swordsman dipped his head, the stray strands of hair cascading down the sides of his face. Without hesitation, the soldiers rushed him, blades in hand and prepared to kill even though he was currently unarmed. And although the Unforgiven was willing to accept death, a part of him roared for him to keep living, to find the person who did this and to avenge his master.

And with a newfound resolved, the swordsman rose, the wind by his side. Yasuo sheathed his sword, as the soldiers came undone, wounded, but not dead, and not looking back he set out to find his master's murderer. They couldn't have gone far. He wouldn't believe that a fellow Ionian would have killed his master, the possibility was still there, but who best than Noxus. War only wrought destruction and death after all, and his master was merely at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Hearing a woman's battlecry, the swordsman jogged in her direction, the wind concealing his presence. He stared at the white-haired girl, her hair dancing in the moonlight, twirling elegantly around her enemies, yet she brought down the ferocity of a bear, and that was when he recognized her technique. Yet here she was, slaying Noxian men, she did not look like an Ionian, that infamous blade of hers giving him all the introductions he needed. She took a deep breath wiping the sweat off her brow, groaning as she collapsed to her knees.

Yasuo examined the girl, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be hiding his presence as he walked out from the shadows, letting himself be known. Their eyes met, and he saw the hate, the regret and the grief in her eyes, she was broken. A presence drew closer, and one Yasuo had known for far too long not to recognize, it was his brother. The swordsman was left conflicted, before him, kneeled the enemy, looking all but defeated, and although she had killed his master, he couldn't find it in him to slay her.

Yone dashed out from the shadows, heading straight for Riven, knowing that once the real threat was out of the way, the two brothers would face off in a duel. But Yasuo parried his brother, his eyes glancing to the indifferent girl behind him. She seemed in another world entirely, her eyes weary and hazy, the eyes of a broken soldier, a soldier who had given up. Nor did the girl bother to look up at him, and before deciding what to do with her, he would hear her out, it was the least he could do.

With a swift roundhouse kick, Yasuo sent his brother flying into the ground, and Yone groaned managing to catch himself on his knees, rising back to his feet. "So now you stand by the enemy!" His brother accused.

"So quick to pin blame," Yasuo whispered. "Whatever you or Ionia may think is none of my concern anymore, Yone."

"I may be of no match for you, brother, but I will not see this crime go unpunished."

"As I," Yasuo countered, and bound to their code of honor, their duel began. Riven sat underneath a tree, staring at the two brothers, the winner would inevitably take her head, and she would not resist, she cared little for what happened to her. She was ready. Yone, however, knew the outcome of this battle, yet he had been the one to seek his brother out, and in a swift motion, he found himself on the ground, gasping for air, blood trickling down his chest. Yasuo approached his brother, watching him collapse onto the field, blood pooling against the grass.

No matter how much Yasuo wanted to apologize, he couldn't bring himself to, and instead took his brother's hand in his. Yone beckoned for his brother to lean in, and Yasuo obliged. "Yone?"

"You were...the only one...I'm sorry." Yone squeezed his brother's hand one last time before letting the darkness consume him. Thoughts, feelings, memories all rushed to Yasuo's head, and he looked back at Riven who silently leaned against a nearby tree, staring right back at him. His glare was murderous and taking his brother's sword in hand, he approached the girl.

"It was you wasn't it?" Riven nodded slowly staring the man down, her eyes lingering on the sharp blade mere inches away from her. "You killed my master!" All she could do was nod, and knowing her life would be over shortly; the white-haired girl closed her eyes leaning against the bark.

"Just end this nightmare..please." Never in a hundred years would Riven have thought she would beg for death, but here she was pleading the enemy to dispatch her, whether it was a slow painful death of a swift one, she didn't care as long as she could rest afterward. Yasuo lost his confidence at that moment, and instead, it was replaced by hesitation and guilt. Why was he feeling guilty? She had killed his master and the reason why he had slain his own flesh and blood. Yet the universe found it fit to mock him, its crooked finger pointed right at him, the word coward echoing in his mind. Was it an affliction? Or a Virtue? He was the only one who could decide.

"Just kill me," the girl pleaded, letting out a cry of frustration in the process. Yasuo sighed and withdrew his sword from the nape of her neck, it all felt wrong. He turned, hearing the footsteps of Ionian men, his sword loosely gripped as he examined the men, their eyes trained on him and Riven.

Then and there, all the pieces fell together like perfection, and he glanced back to Riven, the broken Noxian soldier. His master, his brother, all he had to do was pin the blame on her, and then everything would be back to normal. But nothing could never be the same again, it was too late, and time had taken its course. "Yasuo," the soldiers warned, fear emanating from their voices, despite their brave front.

"I killed his master, he's innocent you morons," Riven breathe, still finding life to be a nuisance even on the brink of death. The men frowned, their eyes trailing to Yone's corpse in a pool of his own blood. The cut through his chest undeniably from Yasuo's blade. Even though Riven was more than willing to take the hit, she could only do so much. Yasuo had already dug his own grave whether he had meant to or not.

In a rush of despair, the swordsman dropped his sword, collapsing to his knees, prepared to accept whatever fate came his way. Killing Yone had not been a part of his plan, and the guilt was too much to bear. Yasuo failed to notice as Riven rose to her feet walking past him as she picked up his blade, the edge dragging along the grass, collecting blood in its wake. She let out a fierce battle cry and swung the sword with all her might, she was not used to the unfamiliar weight, and her movement ended up clunky, leaving her wide open. The soldier sidestepped the sword and kicked the girl down. She glared up at the man, and she was far from over, twisting his foot, she swept the soldier off his feet bringing him down into the grass. She picked up Yasuo's sword, and now with a better understanding she swung with a controlled tempo cutting two of the soldiers cleanly in half, his blade was sharp.

Although defeated, at heart, Riven was still a warrior, and she fought as she would anywhere on the field, her martial prowess proving too much for the soldiers to handle. She kicked one of the men bringing him to his knees, her blade running through his chest. However, the soldier held onto the sword with both hands uncaring as the steel dug into his flesh, leaving Riven trapped as she tried to pull out the sword.

A strong burst of wind took the soldiers by storm, sending them tumbling back, Yasuo didn't have his sword, but he was still a force to be reckoned with. "Stupid wind," Riven mumbled, finally pulling the sword out from the soldier. Her movements were fluid even though she didn't have her sword, but she found his adequate and still being able to channel her Ki, Riven slammed the sword into the ground, a small shockwave taking them men by surprise, leaving them momentarily stunned. She dashed forward and parried one of the soldiers and jumping into the air, the sword came down beheading the soldier cleanly, and channeling the blade's powers, a large wind slash knocked out the rest of the men. Riven sighed collapsing onto her stomach, too tired to continue.

Her hair tie broke and her hair settled on her skin, as she rolled onto her back and stared at the swordsman, and then to the sky. He knelt beside her, taking a lock of her hair in hand, and she closed her eyes as she felt no ill intent. He would not kill her, no matter how much she pleaded. "You don't deserve to die. Not here, not yet. Go north. Find the institution, and live."

"A place of redemption?" He questioned. Riven shrugged.

"Then come with," he demanded. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to kill her, deep down, a pit of hatred still brewed but he couldn't. In a way, she was just like him, betrayed. To his surprise, however, she let out a deep almost inaudible chuckle and denied his offer with a quick shake of her head.

"Who says I want to live?" She huffed rolling onto her side, staring into a small coughing fit.

"I do," Yasuo groaned realizing his statement didn't quite make sense, but at this point, it didn't matter. He gathered his sword and sheathed it, helping the girl onto his back. She protested with all the strength she had left, but Yasuo ignored her to the best of his ability, even as Riven insulted him with every word she had ever learned from Noxus.

"What do you not understand about-"

"Because all life is precious, that is what my master taught me, all beings should get a chance to live because you only live once!" To his surprise, the girl began crying, and Yasuo repeated every word he had said aloud in his mind, he had not said anything hurtful, as far as he could tell.

"Fair enough," she whispered—her words containing no enthusiasm but no dishonesty either.

"Every life, good or bad serves a purpose in the womb of time," he mused. Glancing back at the pouting soldier cuddled up to his neck he realized that revenge left something to be desired. Perhaps it was better this way, and perhaps his master would one day look back, and be proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too proud of this one, but I just got so frustrated! So before I punch my laptop I better publish it :D


	12. Wukong x Ahri

"Ugh, men.." Ahri groaned kicking the alley wall. She couldn't take it anymore, the more she didn't take human souls the more the fox suffered but, the more she did, the more she felt disgusted with herself. It was a paradox, and now she found herself at a dead-end, literally. She knew she wasn't taking the souls of innocent men, but that did not change all the memories and pain that were embedded in those souls, and now into her's.

"Hey there honey, I'll show you a fine time if you come along." Ahri's face turned in the direction of the man with a deadly glare. Her hues turned a crimson pink as she approached the frightened male, and putting a finger to his chest she slowly dragged it upwards until she reached his chin. She whispered breathless words to the human, her eyes boring into his soul, slowly sucking it out of him. By the end of it, the male dropped to the floor along with Ahri. He was still alive, but Ahri covered her mouth in a desperate attempt not to throw up. She couldn't stop herself either, she hated souls, but somehow they were irresistible despite the state of turmoil they left her in.

The nine-tailed fox got to her feet gripping her hair in frustration; she wanted to escape all these memories and live in serenity. Ahri detested humans, yet envied them just as much, and she wanted to become one of them—if only to escape her curse. No matter how many souls she took, she never felt complete and regret slowly washed over her. She didn't even bother to hide her tails as she dashed out of the alley and headed straight out of the village. She ran until she could no more, she wanted to escape reality, but the world was a cruel place, and all she could do was starve herself in solitude. Ahri stopped in the middle of a clearing to catch her breath when a voice interrupted her.

"What is it you seek, little lost one?" Ahri peered over her shoulder at the golden swordsman, his seven eyes immediately catching her attention. She did not know who the man was, but she did not want to find out either. She glanced at the small clothed area of the grass. She had stumbled upon the man having supper, yet had not felt his presence, that was odd. Ahri remained silent, unsure what course of action she should take, but as the golden swordsman drew closer, she leaped away from him, her tails swaying in discontent.

"Stay away from me," she hissed.

"And why may that be?" The swordsman asked, his aura was alarmingly calm, and Ahri took a deep breath.

"Because...I-I'll kill you!" And despite her ferocity, he could only interpret her words with a hint of guilt. He scouted her form from head to toe, his eyes lingering on her tails. Ahri cursed herself for saying something so pathetic, but it was true, she couldn't always control herself, and before she knew it, there was always a corpse at her feet. She heard the man chuckle, however, and she lowered her arms to her side, her anger subsiding, replaced by a frown.

"My name is Yi, and you?"

"Ahri..." she answered warily. Yi took a seat on his picnic blanket and poured himself a cup of tea, glancing towards the fox, he poured a second cup. Ahri obliged and took a seat across from the man, eyeing the cup of tea resting idly at her knees, the liquid simmering under the gentle breeze.

"What is one meant to be, is that not the eternal question?" Ahri opened her mouth to speak, but realizing it was a rhetorical question, she snapped her mouth shut and waited, Yi seemed like a knowledgeable and wise man, and she would not take him for granted. "I happen to know someone quite similar to you, except you are...particular. What you seek and desire, is not something you can easily attain, unlike those of your kin." Ahri's lips curled into a displeased grimace knowing this to be true. She was not like most vastayans, she was special, in the eyes of others, but to her, it was a curse.

However, the fox's ears perked up at the mention of a vastayan like her. She was nearing a point of desperation and thought no harm could come of a serene presence such as Yi. She could feel the power residing in his soul, a vast tundra of power waiting to be unleashed, but it never was, he was a man of words, not of action, unless necessary. "What do you mean by similar?"

"He does not suffer from your predicament, but one may find that companionship is a cure for illness in desperate times." Ahri bobbed her head, but a residue of uncertainty and doubt lingered in her gut. "I must warn you though—it is quite the walk, but a bond shared is not a forgettable one." The fox rolled her eyes at the wise swordsman, she wasn't going to bond with anything or anyone, she was merely going to ask the vastayan a few questions and be on her way, she did not need companionship, she had spent her life alone, and would continue to do so, for her safety and the safety of others.

The journey took several days on foot, Ahri constantly restraining the urge to get down on all fours and run, but Yi took his time, often taking breaks and writing in one of his many scrolls. Ahri peeked at times but would be left in the dust at the inked characters scribbled on the parchment. They made no sense. Though at times, Yi would show her his drawings, some of landscapes, nature, animals, and of course, a small portrait of Ahri, in all her majestic beauty. And it was hers to keep.

Arriving in a densely vegetated area of the jungle, Yi parted the vines gently, and Ahri followed his every move, the vines she would have usually ripped, she took care of them, and in turn, nature took care of her. Yi had taught her so much in the few days they had traveled together. She had learned more of her disposition, diligence, to observe and what it meant to live, to enjoy the little things and treat all aspects of life with respect. She had a new take on the world, never realizing how truly beautiful mother nature was, a new understanding of life came to her, and her want for a simple human living dwindled, overshadowed by the beauty of life, and what it had to offer, for those who wandered down the path of discovery.

"From here on out, the journey is yours alone to walk," the swordsman said, and letting go of the vine, Ahri found herself sectioned off and nodded to herself. She wasn't sure where to go, but let nature lead her, whether or not it was the right call, she would shortly find out. Was she supposed to do something, or would she magically fall upon the person or creature she was supposed to meet? The latter of her options, however, didn't seem plausible as the temperature began to drop, a kaleidoscope of colors peeking through the canopy as the sun prepared to descend over the horizon.

"Wu?" She called out, and clearing her throat she corrected herself. "Wukong!" No answer. The fox groaned, and out frustration stuck out her leg, but thought better of kicking the tree, Yi had taught her better. Ahri took a deep breath, and let her frustrations flow out of her body, and once she calmed down, she took a seat on a nearby log, moss rubbing against her tails, the feeling not welcomed by the fox.

Dropping down from a branch, the monkey stared at Ahri, his eyes scouting her feminine form, and she stared back, taking a moment to process what had happened. Her surprise faded to annoyance, and she frowned, now glaring at the monkey. He sure took his sweet time, but upon remembering that he was the Monkey King, surely he had matters to attend to. However, she had yet to see a single monkey in this part of the jungle, or her past hours of wandering.

"You called for me?"

"Yes."

"And?" Wukong asked, now crossing his arms, his tail tightening around the branch he suspended on.

"I'm here to talk to you..." she trailed off unsure how she was supposed to strike a normal conversation, she always thought monkeys were kinda cute, but she never expected Wukong to look so...intimidating. He was well armored, and the aura of strength he projected made her fingers tingle, he too was a vastayan like her.

"About?" he inquired leaning in. Ahri did not answer but instead contemplated what she should do, he was clearly annoyed by her presence, and his one-word answers didn't inspire much confidence in the young fox. Still, it would be a waste to go back empty-handed. Then it dawned on her, what was she even supposed to ask, she had met vastayans before, none of them familiar with her condition, the rest of her kin were normal, so to speak. And he too looked normal. Companionship wasn't at the top of her priority list, and Wukong did not exactly look like the kind to need or want companionship.

"Like you, I'm a vastayan, except I'm not like most, I use raw energy to create magic of sorts," she waved her hand through the air, a glowing orb resting in the palm of her hand. "And that raw energy I attain from sucking the souls of others, I wasn't always aware of my abilities, until I met humans and began taking their souls, but by then, taking souls was all I knew, so even when I did develop a sense of morality, it was too late, and now it hurts, everything hurts," she whispered. "I met a man name Yi, and he said you could help me, but I don't know if anyone can help me."

Wukong's brow furrowed, and he lowered himself to the ground, his tail hung low as he stared at the fox, a sort of paternal responsibility ran through him, and the fact that Yi had sent her, meant she was a worthy cause. The Monkey King took a seat beside her on the log and crossed his arms contemplating her words. There was no way he could help her, she had to do that on her own, but that did not mean he could not guide her. "I see. I used to be like you before Master Yi took me under his wing, I wasn't always the Monkey King, every one of us has a dark past, Yi included." the monkey nodded, and in doing, so he poked Ahri's chest, her heart beating in response. "Do you kill those you prey upon?"

The look of guilt on the fox's face gave him the answer he needed, and Wukong nodded, shushing the vastayan before she could speak. "How did you develop a sense of morality?"

"Souls contain memories, and like a puzzle, eventually the pieces come together. At first, I was addicted to the slivers of memory, they were like a drug, but now they're beginning to get painful, too many emotions to process and comprehend, and even though they are not my own, they feel like they are, and I don't know what to do with all these pent up feelings."

"Have you ever experienced these emotions for yourself? There are many types of grief. To overcome these emotions, you must feel them for yourself, experience life and all the hardships it had to offer. Anger, love, jealousy, passion, wrath, courage, fear, all of those are emotions that you need to experience, to feel them as your own, and not just as a reflection. They may seem real, but they are not. Of course, that's only part of the problem. I assume you don't want to kill?"

"No," Ahri shook her head. "Even the ones that deserve it..." Wukong chuckled and leaned over, his head resting on Ahri's.

"Well, take my soul," the Monkey King smirked taking her hand in his as he laid it across his chest. "Don't look so distraught. I won't bite."

"You can't mean that," Ahri muttered, trying to pull her hand away, but Wukong's hold was firm.

"Go ahead, and don't be afraid." The two stared at each other intently, and Ahri was trying to determine whether or not he was serious, but to her dismay, he was.

"I-I can't..."

"Aren't you curious, what kind of memories my soul holds?" he taunted, and when Ahri's eyes flashed crimson, the monkey smiled knowing he had triggered her desire for knowledge. As charming as the fox was, it took more than that to enchant the Monkey King, and he stood idle as his soul was slowly sucked out of him, an odd feeling indeed. He would stop the fox if need be, but he did not think it would be a concern, she was very self-aware, and that was the first step to changing, being aware of the problem.

With a gasp Ahri pulled away, stumbling off the log as she fell to her knees on the jungle floor, her face enough to make the monkey chuckle. "No harm was done, don't look so miserable. You can control this power of yours, never for one second believe that you are not in control. I can't take away your pain, but that doesn't mean I can't ease it. There is more to life than worrying, and I'm sure Master Yi has taught you that. Come little fox," the monkey motioned rising to his feet. "The jungle has much to offer."

Ahri followed Wu deeper into the jungle, her tails swaying from side to side. She was still on guard, her knowledge of this vegetated jungle limited. However, Wukong looked anything but, his arms resting behind his head, leisurely strolling down the unmarked path. He was even whistling, which Ahri found odd, the intimidating facade he had greeted her with was all but gone. Abruptly stopping, Ahri crashed into the monkey's back and groaned looking up to meet his glance, and the monkey smirked motioning to the bushes surrounding them.

Rubbing her nose, the fox took a step back, her eyes scanning the bushes, lingering on the plump red berries waiting to be picked. "You must be hungry after your long trip, no?" The fox shrugged, she wasn't all too hungry, but a few berries wouldn't hurt. And so the two knelt side by side picking berries and eating them along the way, not many words were shared between the two, but there was no need to speak. Their last conversation was still sinking into both their minds. And then Wukong cut through the silence.

"Why men?"

"Huh?" Ahri answered, the question catching her off guard. "I guess because I find most men to be quite despicable..?" It was an uncertain answer, but she stood by it. She had quickly come to learn that in a world ruled by men, power often went to their heads, and there were scummy women, but they most often were the victims. "That, and their souls are quite delicious, eating female souls didn't quite feel right, I thought I was doing the world a favor, to be honest, but it's harder to relate to men since I am not one. Although they are easier to charm, I suppose. They possess a point of view which I could never attain as a woman."

Wukong had not expected a lengthy answer, or an answer at all, he had ventured into foreign territory unsure what to expect, he rarely had to deal with his kin, but he was pleased to find that every vastayan seemed so unique, their philosophy, lifestyles, and thought process differed greatly. Whether friend or foe, it was always something the Monkey King could appreciate.

"Do you find me despicable?" Wu asked, his ears perking in anticipation for her response.

"The worst of them all," Ahri joked, a faint smile on her lips.

"Finally someone honest." They both glanced to each other and chuckled. Plopping a berry in her mouth, Ahri stood, her eyes focusing on a nearby bunny, unsure what it was doing in the jungle.

"I've always wanted to be a human, and I think that's why, deep down, all the souls I've taken were human souls. I remember the first soul I consumed. It was overwhelming; I didn't know one person could possess so many emotions, and have them be genuine. At that moment, I was overcome with love, grief, passion, and fear for what came next but-"

"They were not yours." Ahri nodded at the monkey, a single finger wiping away the stray tear that slipped from her closed lids. That day had been engraved in her heart, and she would never forget it for as long as she lived. Wukong rose to her side, and glanced to the canopy, understanding how the young fox felt. He too desired to become more human, he found them fascinating, and he held deep adoration for them. That being said, however, he also felt spite and had crushed more than a few humans in his lifetime.

"We always chase after what we cannot have."

"Indeed," Ahri left the monkey's side, inching towards the bunny, wondering how much of the animal's soul she could take. Wukong crossed his arms observing Ahri. It was best for her to practice on animals here in his jungle before returning to the realm of humans. Returning. Somehow that word stung his heart, he had only known the little fox for a few hours, but she had grown on him, it was like staring at a younger version of himself.

He watched as her tails eagerly swung from side to side, but then froze as the bunny leaped away, wiggling its behind at the nine-tailed fox. "Seems as though someone wants to play," Wu chuckled, motioning for Ahri to give chase. To his surprise, the girl ran on two legs, chasing after the bunny, if she had really wanted to catch the animal, she would not have restrained the fox within.

Ahri giggled, her nimble body weaving in and out of trees as she ambushed the bunny picking it up in her arms, and although she had meant to experiment on the animal, her want disappeared. "Wu, I caught him!" Glancing around, Ahri deducted that she must've outrun the monkey, and sighing she turned around, a pair of green eyes peering down at her. Dropping the bunny, Ahri took a step back, her blood running cold at the sheer size of the beast, she had never seen an animal so big. Its predatory eyes bore into her's, and without warning, the creature swiped for her, but the fox dropped down, evading the attack as she rolled away forming an orb in her hand.

The beast howled, and Ahri shrieked, covering her ears, the noise dreadfully painful as it resonated through every inch of her body. She cursed her sensitive ears and glanced up to see the beast charging at her. For a creature so large, it sure was fast, and Ahri guarded her face knowing she could not evade in time. However, she did not have to, and out of the blue, Wukong dropped down blocking the blow with his own body, the beast's claw piercing through his abdomen.

It would take more than that to faze the Monkey King. Wukong grabbed the beast's arm, pulling the limb out of his abdomen, blood spilling on the jungle floor. Whipping out a staff Ahri didn't know he possessed, the monkey hit the beast with a crushing blow, sending it reeling back. Spinning his staff, Wukong assumed a fighting stance, his weapon at his side, one hand extended towards the beast, his movements oozing with discipline. Ahri could have only guessed he had learned such techniques from Yi.

The two rushed each other, Wukong evading the beast's attack, and spinning elegantly, another crushing blow was delivered, and the predator fell to the ground. On a first glance, Ahri didn't think much of the strike, until a rush of wind hit her, the tree adjacent to the two toppling on its side. Then and there Ahri realized why he was named the Monkey King, his strength was unparalleled, and any beast audacious enough to challenge Wukong had a death wish or was simply foolish.

"They just keep growing bolder," Wu sighed, a cough escaping his lips as he fell to his knees, adding pressure to the wound. Ahri rushed to his side and stared at the wound, a frown etched upon her delicate face.

"You shouldn't have taken that blow," Ahri scolded, helping the monkey down on his back.

"It would be rude to let a guest get hurt. Master Yi would never let me hear the end of it," the monkey chuckled. "Besides it doesn't hurt that much." Ahri rolled her eyes at his pride and uncovered his wound, her worried expression only afflicted more by the depth.

"It's deep..." she mused to herself, the fox pressed her hands against the monkey's gash, she focused and surrendered to the countless souls swimming around inside of her. Ahri relinquished one of her souls and extracting the raw energy through her palms, she watched as the monkey's wounds healed. Restoring one's vitality was considered a sort of taboo, as it took one soul to recover another's. It was what some humans called the dark arts. However, Ahri had an abundance of souls, and restoring one's vitality would not harm her as it would others.

"Yet another delightful surprise," Wukong smirked.

"Ugh, are you ever serious?" He rose a brow, wondering whether or not she was joking with him, but it did not appear to be so.

"You sure are a worry wart, you didn't have to go that far, it takes more than that to kill the Monkey King," Wukong chuckled, his hand falling on top of the fox's head, gently ruffling her hair. He embraced the fox, burying his head in the crook of her neck, he inhaled her scent, one of his instincts kicking in. "But you are a kind-hearted young fox, what you call a curse is also a gift. What you do with it is up to you."

"You're too close," Ahri whispered, but made no attempt to untangle herself from his hold, she had forgotten how warm another could feel. Yi cleared his throat, catching the two off guard, and even though his eyes were not visible, the two could picture his disapproving stare and pulled away from one another.

"You sure know how to ruin a moment, my friend," Wukong sneered, throwing a look in Yi's direction. Ahri rose to her feet, but Wu held onto her hand, watching as Yi disappeared into the depths of the jungle. "Come back soon," Wukong smiled, and as a gesture of affection, he kissed her knuckles, the fox's tails swaying wildly as heat rose to her cheeks.

"I'll come back to you," Ahri whispered. And walking past the monkey, her tails caressed his cheek, and Wukong grinned watching his newly found companion disappear behind the thick vegetation.

"Cunning fox."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it <3


	13. Talon x Quinn

Life seemed on a set path, fortune ever in the favor of those who worked day and night to see their dreams achieved. Quinn and Caleb had a dream to become knights, to serve alongside their king on the glorious fields of battle. The image of Jarvan standing tall and proud in the grandeur of the demacian sun had struck a strong impression on the two, and they would see their dream to its end—together. With guidance from their mother and father, the two strove to become legendary knights whose names would be remembered through history. Their mother taught the two everything they needed, before becoming a warrior, one must first become a great hunter, and to better their senses. A keen mind and precise aim whether with sword or bow was the start to any great warrior.

The twins trained day in and day out, they started small, hunting rabbits and foxes and eventually deers and bears as the years passed. However, one day a tuskvore took the life of Quinn's beloved brother and shattered her dream of becoming a knight overshadowed by the grief crippling her ambitions. Her vows had been cast aside and the glorious days in which they lived slowly faded out of memory, reality drowning out the fantasies she held as a child. Her dream of fighting for her king had not changed, she still strived for the day where she could stand alongside him in the fields of battle, but that day would not be soon. She visited Caleb's grave and rested an orange tulip on his tombstone promising she would be back soon.

Quinn still wished to serve, and she would carry her brother's torch until her last breath. Having nothing left to lose, Quinn did not wish to protect; she wanted to hunt those that would threaten the peace of Demacia. No harm could come to those she loved if the threat was eliminated before it arose. And so she would hunt all of the empire's enemies, crush her opposition and bring her fallen brother's legacy honor. She would make a name for herself. She would not become a nameless knight serving as a mere shadow behind her king. Although her spirit was still crushed from the lack of warmth her twin provided, there was a newfound determination to achieve her goal.

She glanced back at the worn map in her hands and frowned turning it upside down, it was hard to tell head from toe at how vague and faded the map was. "Stupid thing," she grumbled cursing the merchant who had given her this map. Why did she even believe the man, a school for assassins? The more she thought of it, the more ridiculous it sounded. Out of frustration she folded the map and tucked it in her bag continuing on her way. As her mother said if you're lost just walk until you come across a river and then simply follow the water. Cities were built around water, so water would always be your guide.

However, the old man proved to be right, and before long, past the vegetated woods, Quinn stumbled upon an academy. It looked almost abandoned due to the vines encircling the large building, but there were signs of life, training dummies and a dim lantern resting on the side of the main gate. The man had told her just to walk in, but it felt like trespassing as she opened the gate. She felt a rush of anxiety looking at the place, nevertheless she ventured forward and stopped at the pair of large double doors. Her hand moved to the door, hand balled into a fist as she contemplated knocking, but as she chickened out a man cleared his throat.

"May I help you?" Quinn wasn't quite startled, but turning around she eyed the man warily, her hand instinctively resting on the dagger strapped to her thigh underneath her cloak. "It's good to be on guard," the man smiled. He was a tall and broad figure, but Quinn still felt confident she could take him out, instead, though he walked up the steps and pushed both doors open as he beckoned the child to follow him in. Keeping a hand on her dagger, Quinn followed the man in, the entrance hall was dull, life and color seeped out through the ages, but it held a cozy feel to it despite the decor. "Welcome to the Covenant, not many wander into these grounds, but you were not a wanderer, were you?" Quinn shook her head and glanced at her surroundings taking in every possible escape route, just in case.

"No, I didn't wander here by accident; however, I did get lost. I did the best I could with the map I was given." The man smiled approvingly and motioned for her to follow.

"We are not a very big institution, or legitimate either, but you'll find it worth your while if you apply yourself. You'll have to be careful though, not every soul within these walls is as sane or morally stable as you. As mentioned before we are not legitimate." And by not legitimate, Quinn knew their forte, they trained assassins, taught men, women, and children. Any shady character could be found roaming these halls, but her dagger came in handy for exactly that reason. She knew what she had signed up for, and seeing her unfazed expression, the presumed headmaster continued on his way, glancing over his shoulder pleased to see the girl following. "We specialize in underhanded techniques and combat styles, some may say it isn't noble, but between life and death, most would choose life, do you not agree?"

"Yes, a reasonable choice," Quinn muttered under her breath. Perhaps that was the reason Caleb died. He had been too reckless, too noble, facing the beast head-on. It didn't matter to Quinn how she took down the empire's enemies, as long as they were buried six feet under by the end. Besides, as Quinn grew older, she learned that the way of the sword was not her mantra. She much preferred a bow and found that taking enemies out before they knew what hit them brought her a sort of satisfaction, to know she had not only succeeded but given the animal a swift death. The same would apply to humans.

The academy was small, but the headmaster was proud of his humble estate, and Quinn could not blame him, it had all the amenities she would require. "And lastly, your new room." After three quick raps, the man opened the door, and walked in gesturing for the girl to follow, and in she went. The room was average in size, she examined the bed on the far side of the room, furnished with a dresser, night table, and a desk. Glancing to the other side of the room, the layout was identical except for the cloaked boy seated on his bed, eyes slowly trailing up as he closed his book, he wasn't quite glaring, but there was some hostility as he looked the girl over.

"That's Talon, we don't have many rooms available, but I hope you will find everything to suit your needs while you reside within these walls." Quinn gave an absent nod, her eyes trailing to the dim and rusted lantern resting on one of the desks. Caleb would have liked it here. He was always fond of pushing himself out of his comfort zone. Yet, Quinn didn't mind the change of scenery so much, and it was a comfort, her travels kept her mind busy, preventing her from wandering into the dark corners of her memories.

Without another word, Quinn removed a pouch of gold from her cloak and dropped it in the man's hand, she kept a few spare coins in another pouch, but she doubted she would need the gold for a while. Still, it was better to be cautious and save some for the future in case things went south. "Welcome to the Covenant, apprentice. You'll like her Talon. She's not a girl of many words." Talon nodded glancing back towards the girl, looking over her form, despite her plain appearance, he could sense her martial prowess, her eyes oozed with calculated confidence, and her form was proper, he could not say that about most people, it was a welcomed sight.

Quinn dropped her bag on her bed and glanced around the room, there wasn't much storage space, but she hadn't brought enough for that to matter. Taking off her boots she sighed and sat on her bed, crossing her legs as she rummaged through her bag, taking out the few notebooks and journals she kept on hand during her travels. Her journal contained sketches and letters written to Caleb, and sometimes it felt like nothing had changed until she snapped back to reality.

"So where are you from?" Talon asked, leaning back against his bed frame, one hand playing with a dagger. Quinn noted his action and body language and shrugged.

"Doesn't quite matter."

"Good answer, one should never reveal personal information." Quinn wasn't feeling up to small talking, but considering she would be rooming with the boy, she might as well give off a good first impression.

"However, if you must know, somewhere north of here." Talon smirked and gave a slow nod at her response, and he had not expected anything different.

"You don't look like most of the rats here, any reason you wish to meddle with the shadows?"

"Everyone has a reason, just as you were probably tired of petty thefts," her tone was not mocking, but Talon scowled nonetheless, not because of her small jab, but because she had guessed correctly. "It wasn't a guess, I've seen my fair share of thieves, besides it's not like it's a rarity around these parts, that's how most criminals start out."

"I suppose you're not wrong," he mused pressing his finger to the tip of his dagger. "Some steal for the sake of stealing, and for others, it's to live day by day, like you said we have our reasons."

"Which were you?" Quinn asked intrigued.

"Now you're just getting nosy," he scoffed. "But if you must know, I dabbled in both, and for a fair coin, I happened to be a good import-export specialist."

"Wow, that is probably the fanciest term I have ever heard for a smuggler."

"Yes, well, transportation and masking fee let me live a comfortable life, and if you were a petty thief, that's the best you could hope for. Even the wealthy need items smuggled from time to time, and they pay a fair sum for their business to remain discreet."

"Well," Quinn began. "Sounds like you had an exciting childhood."

"It's rather boring, too much idle time on the job. I fell asleep more than once. Now then, what brings you here?"

"Not as exciting as your story, I'm afraid. I'm just looking to improve my skills." Talon saw right through her lie but didn't comment on it. If she had wanted to better to her skills, any other academy would have sufficed, but no, she found herself here, amongst the rats and scum of the world. "We always wanted to be knights, but I learned that knighthood isn't really my thing."

"I see," Talon nodded, noting that she had used the pronoun we, but he knew prying would only shut down their conversation, however, their conversation had already come to a natural stop as she began to flip through her notebooks. Talon noticed the sketches in her journals, some of nature, others of birds, but most animals and their vital points. As per usual, Talon laid out his blades on a cloth and inspected them one by one, cleaning and sharpening them as he went.

Quinn didn't seem to mind the noise, her attention solely on her journal as she scribbled furiously. Talon thought she might have been sketching, but no, her hand movements indicated she was writing, and he wondered if he could get his hands on her journal eventually. He was rather curious as to how a girl like her ended up here in the first place. His morals were in the gray area, and he saw nothing wrong with snooping into her business, never had before and wouldn't start now.

She hummed quietly to herself as she reached the end of her letter to Caleb, but before she could finish, Talon spoke. "The Legend of the Blue Bird, do you know that song?" Quinn nodded dully not looking up from her journal.

"Legend states of a noble bird of prey who rose above the others, they called him King of the Skies, he rivaled even the ancient dragons that roamed Runeterra. Majestic beauty and unrivaled valor, it was said that the bird was as powerful as the gods themselves. Of course, that's all it will ever remain, a legend." Quinn adopted a darker tone, and Talon stared at her face wondering what had caused her bitterness.

Despite the introduction, Quinn was pleased that normal courses still took place, as a normal school. Core subjects such as reading, writing, math, and of course history still took place. As their headmaster best put it, a trained assassin is skilled with more than just a blade. However, she was concerned with all of her language courses; they proved to be quite overwhelming. Morning usually consisted of educational classes, combat classes took place in the evening after lunch and before dinner, and by the end of the day, Quinn was exhausted and ready for bed. She found that it helped considerably to have a friend in a place like this, despite Talon's similar age, he had a reputation of sorts, and most did not venture to test his patience.

Quinn had yet to see this side of him, and the more she heard about it, the more curious she got, but she wouldn't be the one to push his buttons, she wasn't desperate enough for a confrontation. As the months passed, Quinn found herself learning something new every day. Whether it was how to forge documents or cartography, knowledge seemed endless. She had grown fond of Talon over time, she shared her sketches with him, and they spent many nights idly chatting about the different bird species and their many qualities. Talon found that she was still reserved, but he had learned a lot about her and her childhood, including the missing part of herself she refused to talk about.

She never parted with her journals, and so over time, Talon gave up on his quest to unravel the mysteries of her not so distant past. If she wanted to tell him, then she would. She hadn't verbally said it to him, but Talon had a pretty good guess or at least understanding to what happened. He couldn't relate. However, he never had any siblings, and rarely did he feel sympathy for one of his comrades being caught and executed for all to see. A theft was still theft in the eyes of the law, and examples had to be made. Noxus was firm on upholding their laws, however gray they could become. Talon was not against the idea, and it made his job as a thief and smuggler that much more exciting. The prospect of being caught and killed was enough to make his heart pump and breath hitch.

"Who do you think would win, a hawk or an eagle?" Talon asked.

"Definitely an eagle, they're bigger and stronger, they could overpower a hawk without too much trouble." Talon chuckled but shook his head.

"As for I, the hawk, they're smart, and size doesn't mean everything."

"If I can manage to take out a man much bigger than myself then I believe that human was defective in the first place."

"Fair point, the eagle won't always win. Shall we call it a night?" Quinn nodded and slipped out of bed blowing out the candles as she closed the curtains leaving a small portion open for moonlight to filter through. Slipping back into bed, she threw the blanket over her form and closed her eyes, and soon enough, the day's exhaustion caught up with her, and she melted into a dreamless embrace.

As stars fell upon the world, she awoke in the middle of the night, the gentle breeze rocking the branches outside their window. Talon was fast asleep, he was usually a light sleeper, but even she could not deny that today had drained her of all her strength, training had been brutal. Which begged the question as to why she had woken up, something didn't feel right like a veil had settled on top of the world, but that seemed crazy even to her. Slipping out of bed, she tiptoed to her desk and grabbed her cloak throwing it over her shoulders.

The headmaster often found his students wandering the halls at night, and in the morning, said students would run fifty laps around the estate. It was brutal especially when one took into account that they still had training later that day, and the strain was enough to make some vomit. But like the headmaster said, pain builds character, and surely enough he wasn't wrong there. Although Quinn felt that the lesson intended was to learn from your mistakes, tonight was different as she wandered down the halls, to the main stairs that led to the entrance hall.

All was quiet, no students roaming about, no headmaster on the lookout, it was just her, darkness, along with the dagger strapped to her hip. Going through the main door would be too loud so she snuck out through the kitchen and climbed the gate knowing that opening it would make too much noise. It was old and rusty. Glancing around, and finding the way clear, she wandered into the woods. She wasn't sure why, but it felt right at the current time. She kept one hand tightly gripped around the hilt of her blade as she took careful steps, the forest was dangerous at night, and it was best to remain on guard.

A picture of Caleb ran through her mind, and her knuckles turned white as her grip only tightened. Hearing the crackle of dead leaves, Quinn now stood at attention, her eyes peering in the direction of the noise, gaze unwavering as her heart began to pump at the many possibilities of what was to come. A blade came rushing at her, and with ease, she deflected it but noticed too soon that it was a diversion as an arm wrapped around her stomach, a dagger now held to her throat.

"You thought I didn't notice you sneaking out? I would've come along—no questions asked you know." She relaxed as Talon's voice reached her ears and sighed. "Dead, by the way."

"I didn't want to wake you," she mumbled.

"I was awake, you just can't tell when a man is faking sleep," he chuckled sheathing his dagger. "Finally had enough? Running away?"

"Yes, I'm running away in my nightgown and slippers," she murmured rolling her eyes as she sheather her own dagger as well. Talon realized that was a stupid question, but his smile remained placid. "But no, I'm not sure, I was just drawn here, something feels wrong, or right, whichever it is."

"You're not mad. I feel it too, the presence I mean."

"Yeah..." Quinn trailed off covering his mouth as her whisper faded to silence, a small croaking noise echoing in the distance. The two followed the sound cautiously, wary of how dangerous the woods were at night, and he couldn't help but notice how tense Quinn was. She was always on her guard, but this was different, was it fear? He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he could only assume it had to do with her brother. It was a touchy subject, and very little things made Quinn anxious.

Hearing the croaking once more, Quinn rushed through the woods gazing at the wounded bird quipping for its mother. "It's an Azurite Eagle." The proud symbol of Demacia. Her brother came to mind, and she kneeled before the little blue bird, gently inspecting its leg, and frowned, its leg was injured if not broken, and its pitiful squeaking let her know that the bird was unable to move. "You're okay little buddy," Quinn cooed, and the bird squawked and pecked her a few times, but Quinn was relentless in her pursuit to help the eagle.

She unsheathed her dagger and cut up her cloak as she scavenged for a thin, but firm piece of wood. She wrapped the cloth around the bird's leg before slipping the branch between the fabric and finishing up the wrapping as she secured the severed part of her cloak around the bird's injured leg. "You'll feel better soon little guy, I promise. Where's your mother?"

"I don't think it has one. Birds sleep together to share body heat, and if its mother was around, you would know. It's hard to miss a fully grown Azurite Eagle."

"We can't leave him out here," Quinn whined picking up the little guy in her hands, her face looked pitiful, and Talon sighed taking off his cloak as he folded it into a makeshift blanket. 

"Until it gets better we can keep it in our room, but after it gets better, we let it go, got it?"

"Yes, that's reasonable. I just hope we don't get caught." Quinn gently laid the bird down on Talon's cloak, and together they walked back to the academy. However, their pleasant walk came to an end as they spotted a familiar figure looming beside the main gate. The headmaster. "Shit."

"Indeed," Talon muttered, glancing down at the bird, he sighed and stepped forward preparing a string of excuses, but none would do him much good, and he knew that.

"Your discretion was noted, but perhaps next time, don't sneak out from such an obvious location, you have to stick with the shadows."

"Does that mean you're letting us off?" The man chuckled as he uncrossed his arm, waving his hand lazily.

"I'm not that nice, laps tomorrow, and an extra 15, consider it the fee for the eagle." With that, the headmaster beckoned them back inside, and the two glanced at each other. Talon leaned over and smirked.

"He's letting us keep the bird."

"I know, but we're still sticking with your plan, an Azurite Eagle can't grow in captivity, that's not in their nature."

"What should we name the little guy?" Talon inquired gently pressing a finger to the chick's belly.

"Valor, he'll grow up to be a fearless eagle. He'll show great courage in the face of danger and overcome all enemies, and most importantly, he'll outgrow them all." Talon noted her enthusiasm and nodded, and even though she was relating the bird to a specific person, he would not venture into the topic.

"She's optimistic for the future little guy, and you shouldn't let her down." The bird tweeted in response, and before they knew it, they had arrived at their room and created a makeshift nest for the bird. The kinks of animal sitting had to be sorted through, but both parties were willing to do their job without question, and so, the two began their watch. Valor proved to have a strong personality, and his pride often got in the way of how many times he ate per day, rejecting food, and the comfort of his own nest, venturing around the room despite his recovering leg, and every once in a while gazing longingly a the dense woods outside the academy.

Quinn and Talon both noted his behavior, but there was not much they could do to accommodate the bird while it was recovering. However, they did try to provide it with as much company as they could offer, the growing eagle seemed to enjoy companionship, Quinn most of all, but Talon did not feel envious, he wasn't the one with a journal dedicated solely to birds. And before they knew it, the week came to a close, and the eagle was prepared to leave the nest once more, this time in a more graceful fashion.

"They grow up so fast," Quinn sobbed dramatically taking the eagle into her arms. Talon kept his distance knowing the bird hated to be touched by anyone other than Quinn, but he smiled nonetheless. The bird had grown an immense amount in just a single week, and perhaps Quinn's expectations were not simply thrown to the wind, they had some merit to them, and then some.

"Yes, yes, but a deal is a deal, remember?"

"I'm starting to think you don't like Valor."

"All he does is peck me, even when I try to feed him, that bloody bird has it out for me!"

"Yeah, well he won't get nicer with that tone of yours," Quinn scoffed gently ruffling the bird's feathers and scratching underneath its beak. "He's just jealous Valor, don't mind him." Talon rolled his eyes but sat back down on his bed resuming the book he had begun reading the night before.

"Well off you go, and when you come back, no bird, understood?" Quinn barred her teeth and growled, but a promise was a promise, and so with a solemn demeanor, she nodded glancing down at her feathery companion, a feeling of loss panging at her chest. Before she could speak, however, Talon beat her to it. "No, I'm not changing my mind Quinn, now go free that bird."

"Are you not coming with?"

"I'm not good with farewells, so I'll be waiting here." With a nod, Quinn set out for the woods, the eagle perched on her shoulder, its chest stuck out with all the pride it could muster. Perhaps it was secretly a king, but now she would never find out. She arrived sooner than expected and scowled, drowning in her thoughts, she had not noticed her pace hasten, and now it was time for the inevitable, she was not very good at saying farewell, and today was not the exception.

"You're a grown adult now, and you've fully recovered, and so now, it's time for you to set those wings free and go explore the world, find your friends and family and create a legacy, yes?" The bird chirped and Quinn grimaced at the concept of saying goodbye yet again, she didn't want to, and the prospect of the words brought her great sorrow, one she did not wish to relive. "And I'll miss you a whole ton buddy," She hugged the eagle gently and fought to keep her tears in as the bird nuzzled into the crook of her neck, reciprocating her action.

With a thunderous screech, the eagle was off, it took a bit of time for Valor to get used to his new wings, but he managed just fine on his own and circled above Quinn. He found her waving, a sad smile on her face, one he would never forget, a human he would never forget, for he would have surely died that fateful night without her.

On her way back to the academy, Quinn wiped the loose tears that had found their way onto her cheeks, and she took a deep breath trying to compose herself. Talon would never let her hear the end of it until at least next week, and she was not prepared to deal with his attitude. Quinn did not yet feel as though she wanted to go back. Despite the forest holding her haunted memories, she found a sense of peace and comfort from nature's blissful presence. However, the usual soft breeze whistling through the leaves, the chirping of animals and the gentle glow of the sun that lived in harmony were all but gone today.

The sky today was bleak, the sun hidden behind puffy clouds, their gray tint indicating it would rain soon. The breeze was cold, picking up the moisture from the atmosphere, and the forest silent. It made Quinn queasy, and so she hastened back to the academy knowing the headmaster would be awaiting her report of their bird situation. As much as everyone had grown fond of the eagle, droppings were starting to become an annoyance to the general populace. No one enjoyed stepping in it, that was for sure.

A branch cracked and Quinn stiffened as she glanced at the vegetation around her, she kept a tight grip on her dagger and scoffed. "Talon that's not even remotely...funny," she whispered the last bit, her breath catching in her throat as a tuskvore charged at her. It had been far too long since she had seen one in the flesh. Back then when the tuskvore dispatched her brother, her blood ran red with fury, but now there was just fear and the bitterness she held for so-called fate. She managed to dodge in time, scrambling to her feet to get a better read on the situation, but the beast was fast, and her heart picked up speed.

She had killed one before, so today should be no different, but now she did not have her quiver or the bow she usually carried. It would take more than a mere dagger to slay a tuskvore. Until she could find a way to escape and make a mad dash to the academy, she had to find a way to distract the beast. However, it was relentless in its assault, and she could see the bloodlust in its eyes. Letting the tuskvore ram itself into another tree, she took the opportunity to climb the tree opposite of the beast. Quinn straddled the thick branch, arms tightly wrapped around the outside layer of the tree, bark digging into her skin.

She would have preferred for Talon to make a fool out of her rather than this any day of the week. The tuskvore was big, but Quinn doubted even its size could topple such a bulky tree as this. However, she was quickly proven wrong as the beast rammed against the tree, it did not tire, and the tree itself seemed to be doing little damage. She was certain she would be safe up here, but when the tree began to tilt, she lost her breath in anticipation for the tree to topple on its severed trunk.

Much to her dismay, the worst outcome came to be as the tree toppled and Quinn grunted as she jumped off landing on the tuskvore. With a swift blow, she drove her dagger into the beast's eye, but she couldn't get his other eye as the tuskvore shook her off, sending the young girl flying through the air. Quinn landed with a loud thud, her breath all but gone as she collided with a nearby tree. She managed a gasp patted herself down realizing the dagger was no longer with her, and that was not her only realization as the tuskvore came charging at her.

Quinn spotted her dagger, but her body felt sluggish as she reached for the blade, a groan escaping her lips. She reached the dagger in time, but as the tuskvore came charging towards her, she held her breath. There was little a tiny blade could do against such a monster. A loud screech echoed through the woods, and Valor swooped down scratching at the tuskvore's second eye. "Idiot what are you doing trying to fight a tuskvore on your own...with a dagger no less," Talon whispered harshly. He didn't waste a second as he helped Quinn to her feet, she stumbled into him.

Quinn had a few words on her mind, but Valor could only hold off the tuskvore for so long, they couldn't head back to the academy now, it would definitely follow them in its outburst of rage. All Quinn was equipped with was a measly dagger, and Talon was no better, but at least they were together, and they had learned that teamwork could often overcome most problems in life. "We can't go for its heart, too many layers, plus the dagger isn't long enough."

"Then we go for its brain," Talon unsheathed his dagger as he exchanged it with Quinn's. "Mine's longer, try not to take more than one try," he sighed. Quinn knew he wasn't underestimating her abilities, but still, that sigh was unnecessary. "Hey you fat ass boar, come at me!" Like magic, the tuskvore's head snapped in Talon's direction like it had comprehended his words, and letting out a steamy breath, he charged, horns at the ready. Talon could have done the job himself, but Quinn was quite good at acrobatics, and he wouldn't want to put her in harm's way against such a beast.

Valor swooped down and screeched momentarily catching the tuskvore's attention as the blind beast looked around, and with ease, Quinn mounted the tuskvore and went straight for its head, and with confidence, she drilled Talon's dagger into the beast's head, puncturing his brain. "Whoa!" Quinn shouted as the beast didn't go down right away, it shook her off, and Talon caught her in the nick of time, their eyes both trailing to the rampaging beast, its mouth hung open as it finally collapsed and stilled.

"You came for me," Quinn smiled.

"You took too long, and Valor was the one who warned me." The bird settled in front of them, his growth had been impressive, and Quinn couldn't imagine how big he would grow in just a few months.

"Thanks, Valor." The bird edged closer to the two, and nuzzled his head in the palm of her hand, glad that they were both okay.

"So what should we do about the tuskvore?"

"Bring it back, duh. The chef will be drooling all over it."

And so, with both their strengths combined, they dragged the tuskvore by its horns to the academy, earning praise from the headmaster, followed by a few laps, and admiration from the chef as he rubbed his hands with anticipation. Overall, it was a job well done, and although they had set Valor free. He leisurely perched atop the school's roof staring at the horizon, the sun slowly setting. Quinn was exhausted after her trial in the forest, and the laps she had received. As physically tired as she was though, mentally, she could no longer stand. Today had brought forward memories she still hadn't fully gotten over.

She couldn't sleep, yet all she wanted to do was sleep, and it the end, Quinn sat at her desk, quill in hand as she scribbled down the day's events onto the pages. Her encounter with Valor, the tuskvore, her fear, and hopes, and of course, Talon. If Caleb were still alive, she would like to think the two of them would have had a lot in common.

Talon entered the room, with a small loaf of bread in hand, and a platter of food for Quinn, but upon seeing her sleeping figure he frowned. He didn't actually think she would have fallen asleep. She had been rather quiet since they came back, and he assumed she wanted some alone time. He set down the platter of food and walked up to her desk, he was preparing to slam his hands down not so elegantly to wake her up, but her journal caught his attention. He had all but forgotten about it, and so he loomed over her, gently sliding the notebook out from underneath her face.

His eyes skimmed the neat handwriting, and his hold on the back of her chair tightened, and now more than ever, he wished he had not let her go alone. He wished he had been there sooner, how she must've felt confronting a tuskvore, its kin having killed her brother. Suddenly he felt like he had crossed a line he could uncross. He closed the journal and laid it in front of her; he wouldn't want her to wake up with ink smeared on her face. The desk probably wasn't all too comfortable, but he didn't want to wake her up either. Actually, he wanted to make his presence as scarce as possible, but he couldn't help himself as he brushed a loose strand of her hair out of the way, his thumb trailing across her bottom lip. 

Talon sat in his bed, tracing a finger along the edge of his blade, the one that had been used to kill the tuskvore, and his eyes set back on Quinn. He had read about her fears, but most of all her goal in life, it was definitely more honorable than whatever he had planned for himself, that was for sure.

Quinn rarely brought up her brother, and Talon wasn't used to prying into other's lives, and although Quinn never answered his questions, she never pushed him away either. She was quite good at redirecting the conversation, something he found frustrating later on when he realized what she had done. That would be for another day though, he grabbed her blanket and threw it over her shoulders as he himself went to bed.

In the morning, trumpets rang out loudly, the proud anthem of Demacia. Talon groaned as he shuffled under the sheets covering his ears at the obnoxious noise, but upon hearing a gasp, he sat up staring at Quinn. That goofy smile on her face, he hadn't seen it in a while, and he wondered what made her so happy. The trumpets rang out again, and Talon cursed under his breath. Quinn was already up and about as she undressed and Talon's eyes widened, quickly looking away.

"What the hell are you doing?" He shouted, eyes glaring at the wall in flushed embarrassment.

"Come on get dressed!" Before Talon could even say anything, Quinn was already out the door, and he let out a shaky breath rubbing the back of his neck.

"Right," he mumbled to himself as he scavenged for clean clothes, and threw on his cloak over his shoulders. He exited his room, like many of the other students within the academy, some looked unfazed, others filled with excitement and expectations, and some with worried looks. He stopped in his tracks and glanced out the window at the regiment of Demacian soldiers. What were they doing here? However, as Talon stepped outside, he spotted the headmaster greeting what appeared to be the leader of the regiment with a friendly brotherly hug. He looked anything but worried, so Talon eased up.

"Your numbers dwindle every year, my friend."

"Well their deplorable backgrounds are not ones that would be easily accepted at a refined institution, I simply give the strength to make what they want out of life."

"What's going on?" Talon asked, finding Quinn amongst the crowd, his eyes scanning the regiment of men warily.

"Shush," Quinn scolded. She was practically jumping in her boots, and Talon rolled his eyes. He had never seen her so happy, so excited, and it made him feel inadequate if he was honest with himself. He recalled the pages of writing he skimmed over, she and her brother had wanted to become knights, her admiration for them and Demacia was overwhelming, and her loyalties had not faltered upon the death of her brother.

"What's the deal with these people?" Talon asked casually to one of the older students; he had been here for some years now.

"Every once in a while, a regiment comes by to pick up possible recruits for the army. They're pretty picky though, most times they go back empty-handed. No one wants petty thieves and murderers amongst their ranks. It causes distrust." Talon could not argue with that logic, so he nodded and watched as the knights politely stood in wait of their commanding officer. Then it hit Talon—this was Quinn's chance; this was her chance to get one step closer to her and her brother's dream. However, that also meant that his partner and only friend would be leaving. They had been through so much together, and their friendship, he would like to think, was not like the ones he created in the slums. He was used to thinking of people as expendable, yet here he was feeling just as expendable as all the men he left out to rot.

"They seem to be conversing more than usual though, might be different this year," the older boy stated, crossing his arms. "Personally, I hope they don't pick me. Demacians..." he huffed. "Too fucking noble, half those men probably don't even know how to hold a sword properly." Talon had seen the Might of Demacia on the battlefield, his men fighting alongside him, and he hoped never to cross swords with a man like that. His statement wasn't false, of course, but definitely not accurate either.

"Quinn, Talon, get up here!" their headmaster stated. Talon cringed hearing his name being called out and grudgingly made his way up, and Quinn did so too, that beaming smile of hers never coming off her lips. The two stood next to each other as the headmaster introduced them. He felt like an item being auctioned off, but he couldn't blame the headmaster, anyone recruited would live a comfortable life until death, more than some got in a lifetime.

"That style of clothing," the commanding officer said, placing a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "A child of Uwendale, and a skilled hunter, I presume?"

"Yes, her skills are unrivaled with a bow, and she is quite handy in close quarter combat, you wouldn't want to pick a fight with this little lady. An Azurite Eagle has also taken an interest in her—it comes to visit every so often." The regiment looked favorably upon her, that beaming smile of hers, and her Demacian decent. Unlike her peers, her eyes shined bright, and the purity in them vouched for her sincerity. The admiration she held would have been enough to make the old soldier flattered, but too many faces had looked at him like that. However, the feeling was still acknowledged.

Looking at Talon, however, hidden behind his cloak, he could tell the boy was one of talent but was he fit for the Demacian army? Perhaps, perhaps not. Talon could see the doubt in the soldier's eyes and cleared his throat. "She took down a tuskvore on her own. It came rushing at me. Quinn saved me, and she's truly remarkable." Talon praised, knowing this was the chance of a lifetime, and as a friend, he would not let it slip from her grasp. "She took it out with only a dagger too, gouged out its eyes and then went for its brain, I wish I had been more help." The soldier looked to the headmaster with a raised brow, and he nodded giving credit where credit was due.

"Crazy hunters," the soldier chuckled patting Quinn's head. Quinn, however, looked back at Talon knowing he had selectively told the truth, but speaking out now, would ruin whatever plan Talon was aiming for.

"She's always wanted to be a knight," Talon whispered. "A girl like her doesn't belong here." Quinn's eyes narrowed at his words. She didn't know why she felt so hurt. Talon was helping her, and this was what she wanted, so why did it feel so wrong?

"At this rate, even Diana will start singing praises, say no more. Come, child of Uwendale, we ride for the capital tonight." Talon watched as the old soldier handed the headmaster a pouch of coins, and his heart dropped. This was it. Quinn was leaving, and he couldn't do anything to stop it. Hell, he had been the one to encourage it. Everything felt so wrong, but he knew deep down that his feelings didn't matter, this was for the greater good or some mushy crap like that.

Quinn glanced back at Talon with a saddened smile, and before she could depart, she hugged him. They had never been really intimate, except for that one time, where they almost accidentally kissed, but they didn't speak of that, it was buried and forgotten. Talon hesitated to hug back as conflict ensued in his heart, but he threw away all rationality as he wrapped his arms around her, gently lifting her off the ground as he hugged her back, his face buried in the crook of her neck. He would never admit how emotional he was, but if this was the last time he ever saw Quinn, he would make it count, at least once.

"Thank you, for everything," Quinn whispered as the cloaked boy set her back down on the ground. The headmaster cleared his throat, and Quinn pulled away but not before kissing his cheek. Talon cleared his throat not trusting himself to speak, he tried hard to suppress the blush forming on his cheeks, but he wasn't entirely successful, and Quinn waved her goodbye as she left with the regiment. Valor screeched in the distance and descended to settle itself upon Quinn's shoulder as she mounted the horse that had been provided to her.

Naturally, Quinn wasn't done with her studies yet, and so she trained hard to become a knight worthy of serving by the king's side. However, without Talon, everyday life felt dull, and the walls of Demacia could not hold her free spirit. Still, her skills were undeniable, and many respected her martial prowess despite her unorthodox ways. She became an elite ranger-knight, and while some did not fully understand her purpose, many relied on Quinn and Valor whether or not they realized it. It took years of dedicated hard work, but after a delicate mission in the heart of Noxus, Quinn was named the Wings of Demacia, in honor of her loyal companion Valor. He had grown into a fine and mighty eagle, enough to rival even the strongest warriors in Demacia. However, Quinn was a free and wild spirit that could never be contained, but she vowed to serve her king in any way she could.

Summer had set in, and the conflict between Demacia and Noxus seemed to have come to a standoff, leaving Quinn with a bit of free time on her hands. She had made sure to visit Caleb's grave as often as she could, but with her busy and unorthodox schedule, sometimes she would only visit him on his birthday, which also happened to be her's as well. So she would spend the day with Caleb, sharing stories of her missions, and how strong some of her fellow knights were. And today was no different, Quinn found herself before Caleb's grave and set down a purple lily.

"This is for you Caleb, it's not all too fresh, so it might wither soon, but I think it's beautiful. I got it from the woods, where we used to grow up. I hope I've made you proud, and I hope that you're at peace, I couldn't have asked for a better brother. Life has been lonely without you and Talon, but I have Valor, and he's great company when he's not trying to steal my food." Valor sneered at Quinn as he spread his wings trying to look offended. "I've met so many people, and I'm grateful for everyone and everything so far, and I just wish you could be here to see it with me—oh, I got you something else."

Quinn unstrapped the sword at her hip and unsheathed the new and polished blade. "I had it made just for you, your name is engraved along the side of the hilt, and it's pure Demacian gold, with the finest steel, and it's all yours." Quinn smiled as she set the sword beneath the purple lily and bowed her head respectfully. "I need to head back to Demacia soon though, I haven't been back to the capital in a few months, and I have something to discuss with the king, so I can't stay long today, I'm sorry."

"Oh good, I thought you were about to get even mushier, not sure I could handle that," Talon chuckled. Quinn's eyes widened as she looked over her shoulder, her eyes blinking to make sure she was not hallucinating. Valor usually warned Quinn if anything or anyone was nearby, but it seemed as though Valor was not threatened by his presence.

"You shouldn't be here, you're wanted," Quinn mumbled.

"Yes, my bounty is quite high isn't it, strokes my ego from time to time." Valor made his way to Talon, and the bird nuzzled his hand, biting his finger in the process. "You cheeky bird," Talon groaned waving away the bird. Quinn had always been his favorite, and he could understand, Quinn had always been his favorite too. She had grown up so much, and Valor, well Valor nearly rivaled a human himself, it was quite impressive. "I thought I might find you here."

"You need to leave, you're an enemy of Demacia, and I'll have to take you in," Quinn stated bluntly, but she had yet to reach for her weapon.

"I'm glad your dream came true," Talon smiled. His gaze held no smugness or playfulness just genuine happiness, one that caught Quinn off guard. "I missed you. I started sketching birds from time to time while on missions, they're not as good as yours, but I say they're decent."

"Talon," Quinn sighed. Her eyes begging for him to leave. "I don't want to hurt you, and my duties-"

"First of all, I don't think you could," he smirked. "But you're free to try." Quinn groaned rubbing circles around her temples as she shot him a half-hearted glare. Voices echoed in the distance, voices belonging to Demacian foot soldiers and Quinn stared at him in disbelief. Talon only smiled and cupped Quinn's cheek as he kissed her, it was a soft and gentle kiss and while Quinn knew this was wrong, her duties for the time could wait as she kissed him back. Her arms wrapping around his waist. No words were shared as she rested her head against his chest, Talon had to pry her off, but not before gently pressing his lips to hers again.

"Don't be sad," he cooed. "I'll see you again soon," he whispered. "And Valor, don't let this idiot do anything reckless." Valor nodded, and Quinn glanced back, but Talon was already gone, she touched her lips and blushed clearing her throat as Demacian men came crashing through the thicket. It took the men a moment to process but upon seeing Quinn, they all saluted, and their eyes glanced back and forth between her and the grave. At this point, many knew of her life story, and the men felt awkward about having stumbled in on a personal moment.

"Can I help you?" she asked, Valor swooping down to rest on her shoulder, looking down at the men.

"A cloaked figure came through here. He was wearing a purple cloak, have you seen him?"

"Valor?" Quinn glanced at the large hunting bird, and Valor reading the situation, shook his head. "I'm afraid no one has come through, or near here."

"Sorry to disturb you," the men saluted again, and away they went back down the mountain. Talon owed her for this, and looking at Valor, she smiled thanking the bird for its unquestionable loyalty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long...8500 words lol 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! <3 
> 
> xoxo~


	14. Draven x Sona

Another day on the rift, the sun was out, birds tweeting at the rising sun, it was a perfect morning, and Sona smiled softly as their team assembled for the first match of the day. Draven entered the field, proudly shouting his name with a long drawl, and all their smiles faded except for Sona's who greeted him with a chirpy note. Draven twirled his axes and stretched preparing for the long day ahead of him, and he was ready for a day's hard work.

Sona had nothing against the loud and arrogant man, but if she could pick anyone, it would be Ashe. She was always calm and collected, and very appreciative of strategic planning versus jumping in guns blazing. However, she grew accustomed to the obnoxious and overwhelming man who more often than not referred to himself in the third person. Aside from his exasperating personality, he was an amiable partner when the occasion called for it. His efforts were commendable, but of course, telling him that would only raise his ego further.

Draven wasn't about teamwork, the thought rarely crossed his mind, the stage was his, the lights were on him, and the crowd cheered for him and him alone. However, he couldn't deny his fondness for the mute. She was kind, her music always seemed to fit the mood, and most of all she always agreed with him. Sona was like Leona in a way, bright personality but with very little nagging, and he could appreciate that. Sona didn't tell others what they should or shouldn't be, she just accepted them as they came, and rather than trying to change others, she just adapted to fit them. So when it came to Sona, sometimes, it was a stage meant for two, but his pride would never allow him to say such words.

If Sona could be described in one word, it would be a rose. Delicate and beautiful, but thorns not afraid to prick others. She was very expressive through her music, and Draven found himself stunned when Sona showed her ruthless side. Inside her was a warrior, one that would take the fields of battle by storm, a tempest who wielded emotions as a weapon, and damn if he hadn't already fallen for her. However, a man's pride often came in the way of his feelings. Sona fell into step with Draven as they headed out onto the rift, the latter sharing tales of his exploits in recent months as he had gotten back to the institution only a week prior.

He found it odd how easily comprehensive her notes were at times, but then again he had made an effort to understand her lyrical musings. Spotting the enemy in the distance, Draven smirked and raised his axe. "Let's go!" Draven was not the most subtle man in the world, so Braum saw them coming without too much trouble. Before he could raise his shield, however, Sona stunned him, and Draven went after Miss Fortune, uncaring for the big burly man who found himself incapacitated. Within seconds Miss Fortune was out of the picture, and next was Braum.

Draven walked back to his support with a cocky grin as he spun his axes, tipping his head to thank her for her quick thinking. She clapped her hands together, applauding his hard work, and Draven's smile only grew. "Shall we head back?" He asked casually inspecting his axes, but as he looked up, Sona rammed into him, sending him tumbling back on his ass. Rek'Sai came in full force, her tail colliding into Sona's side as she was sent flying into a nearby wall. His eyes darted to his injured support, but Sona quickly got to her knees, firing out a harsh note that sent Rek'Sai recoiling back into her tunnel.

"Sona!" Draven screamed, grabbing his axes as time seemed to slow. Rek'Sai jumped from her tunnel, and Draven was too slow, even as he sent his axes whirling in the voidling's direction. Sona, however, was more agile than most gave her credit for, and although Rek'Sai's claws dug into her arm, she rolled out of the way and fired another note at the voidling. She was relentless, and her fierceness was admired, but Sona was no match for Rek'Sai, and as the Maven was sent tumbling into the river, Draven finally lost it, hauling his axe into Rek'Sai's thick skin.

With a deafening screech, the voidling disappeared into the ground and escaped not too far off. It felt odd for Draven to let his target escape, but his priority was Sona. She sat up, droplets of water dripping back into the river, and she smiled softly, playing a soothing tone as she healed their wounds, but Draven's eyes remained fixated on the gash marks on her shoulder. Even now, that smile of hers was tender and appreciative, and Draven sighed kneeling as he offered his hand.

The two stood up and basked in the healing aura as they made their way to their turret. Sona gave a faint encouraging note, and Draven chuckled. "Definitely could have been worse," he agreed. He patted her head gently and letting a cocky laugh; he patted his chest, "Not bad little one, you're definitely getting better." Those words surprised Sona, she had expected some egotistical comment about how no one is a match for him, but he had complimented her. Sona let out a delightful note, and a goofy smile graced her lips as she faced Draven. Maybe he wasn't all that bad...sometimes.

The match came to an end, and Darius awaited the return of his brother with a cocky grin, and the Hand of Noxus sang tall tales of his accomplishments, one that his brother would challenge to see who of the two was superior, but his thoughts seemed elsewhere today. Darius glanced in the direction Draven was looking and frowned. Ashe and Braum were rather amiable with each other, but that was an everyday occurrence, not something Darius would consider out of the ordinary. However, Sona was with them, her beaming smile enough to lighten the hearts of everyone around her. "What you've never seen people talk before?"

"Shut up," Draven grumbled, thankful his brother was rather thick headed when it came to anything other than driving an axe into someone. Yet, he was thankful, Darius would never let him hear the end of it.

"She's not bad looking...for a queen I mean, no man wouldn't tap that," Darius nodded to himself. "The proud ones always fall the hardest." Draven choked on his saliva and covered his mouth as he cleared his throat. Then the realization dawned on him that he was talking about Ashe.

"Yeah, sure," Draven hummed, his eyes fixated on the blue-haired girl, her bangs covering her eyes as her cheeks turned a light pink color. Braum did have a way with words, or rather he was so forward, he could make any woman blush. "What about the other?" Draven asked curiously, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself.

"Sona? Eh, she's too, I don't even know what to call her. Her kind annoys me, always so fucking happy and cheerful, no one should ever be that happy all the damn time. Her kind freaks me out." Draven shrugged. "Besides she's too gentle and caring, I want someone strong; someone to challenge me!" And Draven raised a brow. He was referring to Illaoi. Draven understood though, although Sona was not physically strong like some other women, she was ferocious in her own way. At first, he too had found her happy go lucky personality somewhat off-putting and bothersome, but it had grown on him.

She wasn't like others, she never tested him, she accepted whoever came her way, and in her own right, that was formidable. He found something welcoming in her, something he didn't find in others—or at least most. Darius saluted his goodbye and headed off to the great hall, hoping to drown himself in ale, but Draven had other plans. Straightening out his shirt, he walked towards the trio, he breathed into his hand deeming his breath acceptable and then frowned unsure what the hell he was doing.

"Sona, you should join me tomorrow on my hunt, it would be a delight to catch up with you, and I would love to hear your new chords, Braum tells me you've tuned your ethwal?" Sona nodded, and Braum's smile turned to a pout.

"But-"

"Braum you've accompanied me on all my hunts," Ashe remarked. "But a woman needs female companionship." Ashe turned to Sona, and placed her hands on her shoulders, smiling sweetly. "And as much as I like talking about goat cheese, sometimes girl talk is also fun."

Draven thought better than to interrupt their conversation, but by the look on Braum's face, the man was pouting over the hole he had dug himself. Sona caught his gaze and smiled at him, and silently cursing himself Draven left the institution wandering down the paved stones. He found himself troubled; all he could think about was the kind-hearted girl and how different they were. Draven didn't mind his personality, he found comfort in being himself, but the stark contrast between the two had him shocked. It was as Darius said, he would have once found Sona the be and depiction of what he hated about the world, but he found her admirable.

"Mid-life crisis?" He mumbled to himself. Draven twirled his axe and sighed, hurling one at the nearest tree. His axe lodged into the tree, and he sighed retrieving his weapon. Perhaps he was growing tired of being alone? He had Darius, but he too was a burden to handle at times. Perhaps he was stressed out? Another axe was thrown. Definitely. He threw another axe cursing Ashe's name, but Draven wasn't all too sure why he was angry with her.

And yet he threw another axe, but before he could retrieve it, he heard a faint footstep behind him and glanced over his shoulder. Sona let out a small note, and Draven sighed. "What are you doing out here?" he asked. "It's getting late." Sona did not reply like she usually would. Instead, Draven drowned in her stare, and as the seconds passed, he grew more uncomfortable. He retrieved his axe and twirled them slowly, his gaze falling on the odd colors plaguing the sky. The silence was comfortable, but obviously, Sona wanted something, but Draven wasn't sure what he could offer.

Sona sat down, her ethwal on her lap as she began a string of lyrical musing, the notes lingering in the air, and Draven processed their tone. Then he began to understand; it wasn't about her. It was about him. "I'm not sad. I just have a lot on my mind—and my thoughts are not full of tragic memories," he mumbled the last part with a huff. Sona raised a brow at the exaggeration of his translation but paid it no heed. And so she set down her ethwal and approached him, taking hold of his wrist. She traced along the lines of his palm and smiled.

"You are unbelievable. I don't understand you," Draven whispered. "You are much too good for this world." However Draven took a step back, and Sona released him with a worried look. "No, don't look at me like that—and for the record, I'm not lonely, and I very much appreciate me time. Draven time. The only time that matters really." Sona's smile only grew wider, and Draven groaned. "Do you not take no for an answer?" Sona crossed her hair over her face and mimicked Draven's mustache much to his amusement, but it was a subtle no on her part. 

"That," he pointed at her. "Is inappropriate." She took a step towards him and Draven backed up feeling like the circumstances at hand should have been reversed until he hit a tree. Definitely reversed. Sona pressed a hand to his chest, and Draven held his breath, unsure what the hell was happening. Their chests were pressed together, and as Sona leaned on the tips of her toes, her lips nearing his, Draven covered her mouth, trying to suppress his flustered expression. "No, I can't," he whispered. "You deserve someone better." Instead, Sona kissed his hand, but her brows remained furrowed all the same. She jabbed his chest with her small hands, her anger not directed at him, but rather his self-deprecating remark.

"Hey, stop that," Draven grunted taking hold of her wrists. While Draven was distracted trying to keep Sona from hitting him, she caught him off guard, pressing her lips to his, and Draven froze. He hadn't been the one to kiss her, she had taken the initiative, and that thought lingered for a little while as Draven processed it. He kissed back a little rougher than he anticipated and then resting both hands on Sona's shoulders, he pulled her away, holding her at arm's length. "You really don't take no for an answer." Sona only smiled, and Draven groaned rubbing the back of his neck. What was he supposed to do now?

"Is this really what you want?" Sona nodded.

"Are you sure?" Another nod.

"I mean I'm pretty good at pretending like some things never happened..?" A frown, and then a brief shake.

"So...are we good?" She smiled and took hold of his hand, kissing it softly. "I'll take that as a yes." Sona pressed a kiss to his chin and pulled away waving at the flustered man. So this was it, just like that, he and Sona were now together. Draven let out a deep breath and picked up his axes, unsure if his mind had entirely processed what just happened. Still, he never expected the girl to be so bold, but it the end it was not a bad thing. No rather he found a lot of joy over what transpired only minutes ago. He could get used to it—and her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be my last rewrite!!! Yay! 
> 
> From here on out, I'll try to post the rest of my work on a 2-day interval...if I don't forget while working on my other works and stuff


	15. Ezreal x Sona

With a sigh, Ezreal closed the book he had begun reading, the information redundant and overall useless. Perhaps he had to face the reality that this was all pointless, he had looked nearly everywhere, and that was not an exaggeration. Now he began to doubt his expertise, perhaps he had missed something, someplace hidden away, but he had made sure to scout the entire region, and nothing escaped his eye. Or at least that's what he believed. His eyes scanned the neat pile of books stacked on the table, still waiting to be read.

Nearly two hours later, Ezreal had given up hope; maybe the ancient cove did not exist, it would have been his greatest adventure yet. However, scouring the world, studying his notes, the endless hours of reading and cartography, nothing had come of help. Though, a particular artifact caught his eye as he turned the page of the book. Like all the other books, the information was irrelevant to his treasure hunt, but this was far more valuable than some stashed away cove in the abyss of the world.

He stood up abruptly, his chair toppling from the sudden force, and with haste, he left. Running through the seemingly endless corridors, Ezreal finally found the room he was looking for and forgetting his manners, he pushed the door open and came to a sharp halt. He stared as Annie sat on Sona's lap, the older of the two mimicking an elegant motion for the younger one to follow. Tibbers sat idly on the other side of the sofa, watching the two, and Ezreal glared at the bear, uncomfortable being in its presence.

To his surprise, Annie's hand glided across the strings of the etwahl and procured a beautiful melody that left her scarce audience stunned. It wasn't a gentle note like Sona's, but it was beautiful in its own right. Sona clapped with a joyful smile and Annie descended from her lap, looking a bit too proud of herself. "Sona says I learn fast," the child said smugly as she gently pulled Tibbers to her chest, carrying him out of the room, shooting Ezreal a smirk. Children, he thought to himself, even so, she was still a bright and talented young girl.

Sona let out a soft note catching Ezreal's attention and snapping out of his thoughts, he smiled, inviting himself into the Maven's living room. He slid the book he had been reading over to her, with a sheepish grin and Sona leaned forward, analyzing the book, before glancing at the pages one by one, briefly giving the words the attention they deserved. However, as she turned the page, she caught a glimpse of a few keywords and began reading intently. If the book spoke of the artifact correctly, then Sona could revert her physiology and get her voice back, but that was a big if.

"I realize it might not work, but I think it's worth a shot, don't you?" He didn't have to persuade Sona though, her pleading eyes practically begged for him to take her along, wherever he might be headed. Ezreal chuckled and closing the book, he spoke up. "I'm not leaving you behind, don't you worry; we'll get to the bottom of this." Sona nodded, knowing Ezreal wasn't the sort to leave his comrades behind, and with a smile, she took his hand in hers and offered her thanks.

Ezreal wasn't the kind to stall before heading out, but he had made sure to pack all the essentials. In this particular scenario, though, he assumed the voyage would take less time than anticipated. Rek' Sai had kindly agreed to transport the two—mainly Sona—but it would cross off the journey leaving only the artifact to find. Shurima was vast, but the book had been quite descriptive, and he believed it shouldn't take too long to find the chamber.

Sona interrupted Ezreal's musing, and he looked up, amazed at how he had never seen her out of a dress. She looked spectacular, even in regular clothing. It was the first time, however, that he had seen her legs, and despite their feminine curves, she was muscular all the same. He noticed the small backpack resting on her shoulders and smiled. It was only reasonable for Sona to be excited, the prospect of getting to speak again was exhilarating, but she knew that she shouldn't set the bar too high.

With final preparations now finished, the two set off on foot towards the den on the beast. Even a voidling could be charmed by Sona's personality, and the gentle soul had molded her way into the hearts of many, Ezreal included. As promised, Rek' Sai stood at attention, slowly inching her way to the ground, waiting for the two adventurers to climb atop her. Ezreal settled in first, reaching down and extending his hand to Sona. With a grateful smile, the Maven took hold of his hand, and with a gentle tug, the two were now seated and prepared to head out. Rek' Sai nodded to herself, and with a wiggle, she assured the two were holding on tight and off she went.

With a panicked expression, Sona wrapped her arms around Ezreal, her head burying in the crook of his neck, as the male let out a terrifying scream at the sheer speed of the creature. He knew Rek' Sai was fast, but this was too much, even for him. After a minute or two, however, the two grew accustomed to the uncomfortable speed at which they traveled, and Sona relaxed slightly, daring to peek at the desert scenery before them. The endless mounds and the sand-filled horizon was rather dull, but the sand itself was mesmerizing, it almost looked wet from the way the sun shimmered down on the sandy pebbles.

Rek' Sai came to an abrupt stop, causing the two passengers to jolt to attention. It was practically unheard of for any voidling creature to be afraid, but Rek' Sai was uncomfortable and refused to take another step forward. Sona played a soft and comforting note hoping to inspire courage into the creature, but alas, Rek' Sai did not answer. "Don't worry. You've done more than enough," Ezreal comforted patting the voidling's back as he slid off the side. Once he landed with a small thud, his feet firmly rooted in the sandy desert soil, he motioned for Sona to follow, and obliging, the Maven slid from the side of the void creature and landed on the ground beside her partner, Ezreal's arms resting underneath hers.

"We'll continue on foot from here," Ezreal gestured and glancing at the radiant sun, he made haste, glancing over his shoulder to see how Sona was holding up. She was always so gentle, and he often forgot that just like him, she was a fighter. And although everyone always worried over her like a porcelain doll, she was capable of holding her own. That being said, she was no one-man army like some, but she was plenty strong on her own.

Not before long they stumbled upon the outskirts of Shurima, the once great empire still buried beneath the sand, leaving only the ruins and remnants of what could have been. It was eerily quiet, and in the desert, that would have been normal for some, but Ezreal couldn't hear anything. Not even the gentle gust that often swept across the desert in waves. Sona strayed from Ezreal as she inspected the architecture, the detail on what once used to be simple homes was simple yet elegant, Her hand gently cleared the dusted stones, and she stared at the golden plaque, reflecting the sun's light. Her thumb pressed gently against the plate of gold, admiring the decor and wishing to feel the texture against the pad of her finger, but as a shadow cast itself across her and the plaque, she noticed a distorted reflection and turned around.

Ezreal was quick to act, and he threw himself against Sona, dragging her through the sand-filled streets as the giant snake collided against the building she had last been admiring, reducing it to rubble. The two wasted no time as Ezreal got to his feet, and Sona quickly followed suit, no waiting to see what the snake would do next. They ran through the endless streets that once used to be the proud Shuriman empire and took as many turns as they could hoping to lose the beast, but it was much too large and effortlessly spotted them from a distance.

Ezreal glanced back over his shoulder, but his foot caught on a slab that hadn't been properly buried and tripped, eating sand on the way down. Sona came to a halt almost instantly as she came to his aid. "What are you doing? Run!" Ezreal shouted, but leaving anyone behind was not how Sona operated; she was too noble to be selfish. The snake quickly caught up, slithering through the ruins and as soon as it reached the duo, it lunged, its fang bracing to pierce flesh. Sona fired a note at the reptile, but it did not flinch. To their luck, however, Rek' Sai emerged before them from a hole in the ground, and they both watched as the snake's fangs failed to sink into her thick hide, the voidling now officially pissed.

Ezreal quickly sat up, and as the two creatures fought against one another, he wrapped an arm around Sona's waist and blinked to a nearby location, ushering the Maven into the partially collapsed building. The two took the time to catch their breaths, both pressed against the wall as they processed that a giant snake was trying to kill them, but glancing outside, it was unsafe for either of them to try and aid Rek' Sai. It was a battle between behemoths, and acutely aware of his strength, Ezreal would not play the hero today.

Sona noticed a golden plaque just like the one she had uncovered a while back and tugging on Ezreal's sleeve, the boy turned around, his eyes catching a glimpse of the golden reflection. "Hmm, that resembles the symbol on the book," Ezreal muttered to himself, his hand gently dusting off the plaque. Taking out the book in his satchel, he examined the material, and sure enough, the plate was made of an almost indestructible material. However, there was no sense in using such a material for decoration, that was ludicrous unless it was used to seal something. It was not breakable, but it was movable. "Sona lend me a hand," he asked as he took off his satchel and rolling up his sleeves, he prepared to lift the massive plate of indestructible gold.

With a bit of strategic planning, Sona's help, and a few grunts later, the golden plate had been moved to the side, and Ezreal dropped down to the floor, his hand running over the stone slabs leading into the unknown, and taking a closer look he determined it was a staircase. "An underground passage." The ground shook, and the two glanced over their shoulder, Rek' Sai having been thrown into a nearby building. Wasting no time, Ezreal went in first, descending the steps carefully, his hand tightly intertwined with Sona's. If either one of them were to lose their footing, it would be quite a steep drop.

Now, however, another problem arose. They were plunged in darkness as the building above collapsed, trapping them underground. Instantaneously, the two stopped moving, and their grip on each other tightened. "I can't see anything," Ezreal whispered, he had sufficient materials in his satchel to create a torch, but Sona's grip was stiff. He never expected her to be afraid of the dark. And this was total darkness. She did not even dare to move, her breath at a standstill.

Ezreal took a careful step up, and wrapped an arm around Sona's waist, gently helping her sit on the stone stairs. "Sona, I need you to let go of my hand," he said softly. The Maven, however, refused as her grip only tightened some more. "It's the only way we can create some light, okay? Can you do that for me?" Ezreal didn't notice a change in her grip, and he internally sighed. He reached down, gave a reassuring squeeze, leading Sona's hand to his arm. "Just hold on to my arm, okay? I'm not going anywhere." At last, Sona complied, and Ezreal was free to reach for his satchel, blindly patting down objects to identify them.

With a bit of time and extreme patience, he finally managed to ignite the torch illuminating the abyss encircling them and glanced at Sona, her worried expression only concerning him. "See, it's alright. I didn't go anywhere." Her usual smile was gone, and she nodded, but the uncertainty in her eyes was enough to pain him. "You're afraid of the dark," he noted. Sona gave a firm nod, and as Ezreal stood up, she took hold of his hand, sticking to him like glue as the two descended the stone steps once more, the torch only providing so much light. They went step by step, and eventually reached the bottom, and the Ezreal heaved out a sigh of relief thankful it was over.

Ezreal weaved the torch through the air, examining his surroundings, although the light was dim, he could see a faint outline on the wall, and gently tugging Sona's hand, he went to investigate. As the two neared the silhouette, Ez smiled as he held the torch above the fixture on the wall, within seconds, the mounted brazier caught aflame, and like magic, the fire spread throughout the room, lighting every nook and cranny of it. "Neat."

With the room now lighted, Sona felt comfortable enough roaming around, she examined one of the fixtures, and noticed the small back entrance leading into the wall, there must have been a small tunnel in the walls for the fire to travel through. It wasn't magic, after all, but proper architectural planning. Sona's hand glided against the wall, the thick layers of dust falling to her side, until she came upon the very same golden plaque, and glancing up she noticed two enormous gilded doors, tightly sealed. Her hand plucked at one of the strings on her etwahl and Ezreal was immediately alerted.

His eyes trailed to the double gilded doors, and he nodded to himself. On closer inspection, Ez noticed the thin layer of magical energy that guarded the door, unlike the last entrance, this door would not be forced open. He had seen countless vaulted chambers like this one, and there had to be some sort of mechanism around. Turning in circles, Ezreal's eyes swept the walls of the underground chamber, and he sighed, seeing nothing out of place. There were two holes in the door, but he hadn't seen anything vaguely resembling the two stones that needed to be placed.

Sona, however, grabbed his hand and pointed at one of the many symbols of the wall. She gestured with her hands that she had seen it before, and Ezreal nodded. "Even so, what are we supposed to do with these symbols?" He tapped one of the symbols rather harshly and scoffed. "It's not like they'll just-" with a loud ringing thud, the plate fell to the ground circling on itself as it came to a stop, and Ezreals' eyes widened. "Nevermind." Sona wandered to the other side of the room, and gently removed the symbol, a small smug smile on her face over her observant nature. She tended to see what others could not.

The two met up at the door, and on Ezreal's signal, they inserted the platted symbols into the wall, watching as they clicked inwards. They were a perfect fit. A burst of magic shot through the room, Sona guarded her face, falling to her knees as Ezreal was sent tumbling on his ass. The magic veil lifted and the doors opened, revealing—a long dark corridor. Ezreal shrugged, thankfully he hadn't extinguished the torch, and taking Sona's hand in his the two traveled down the dark corridor, another set of stairs later, and another puzzle to solve, this time involving pressure plates. Once finished, the two found themselves at an altar.

"These altars only mean one thing," Ezreal whispered, growing more uncomfortable by the second. Whatever had transpired down here, he did not wish to know, but it couldn't have been anything good—taking a dagger out of his bag, Ezreal placed it on the altar. Sona looked just as concerned, if not more so, and Ezreal sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We don't have to do this," Ezreal muttered, mostly to himself. Sona, however, had come too far, her hopes still high, and without hesitation, she took hold of the dagger, and pressed it down into the flesh of her hand, and slid it down. "Sona..." He watched as blood pooled down her hand, and drop by drop, they hit the altar, sinking into the crevices never to be seen again.

The altar shone a bright blue color, momentarily blinding the duo as it sunk into the Shuriman sand below them. The altar opened, and the inner compartment ascended, revealing a golden idol, and Ezreal feeling particularly touchy grabbed it right off the pedestal, a huge grin on his lips. "Sona, this is it; this is the artifact."

Before the two could admire their accomplishment, the glowing light turned red, and the ground shook, a guardian descended from the ceiling. Sona dropped the dagger taking a step back, and Ezreal followed suit, his eyes glancing around to find the nearest exit. Why the hell were there so many corridors? The guardian rose, towering over the two, a golden spear in hand as he twirled it, assuming a battle stance. The guardian lunged at the two, and Ezreal grabbed Sona and blinked away. With their hands tightly intertwined, the two made a mad run to the nearest corridor, not bothering to look back at the bloodthirsty guardian.

Sona's grip tightened, and Ezreal cursed, daring to peek over his shoulder, the guardian on their tail. They arrived in the main chamber which they had descended into, and he cursed again. Ezreal shot a bolt of energy towards the guardian, the impact enough to delay him, but only slightly. The duo ran up the steep staircase, and once the collapsed rocks were in his sight, he let go of Sona's hand. "Do you trust me?" Sona didn't hesitate as she nodded, and Ezreal took a deep breath, he released a barrage of energy, and the collapsed rocks stood no chance as they were sent flying in every direction clearing the passage. Sona clumsily rushed up the steps, avoiding stones left and right; she made it to the top and glanced back at Ezreal. The guardian lunged at him, and Ezreal shot the ceiling, the stones collapsing on the both of them.

Sona gasped, and turned around, rushing to his aid, but Ezreal vanished in a sparkle of energy and appeared next to Sona, dragging her up the stairs. "I don't think a few rocks is going to hold him off for long," Ezreal panted helping Sona up the stairs and through the hole. As if on cue, a booming roar erupted from the underground passage, and rocks went flying in every direction as the guardian emerged looking unscathed. The two hastily exited the house, only to be met with the giant snake from earlier, Rek' Sai must have made her exit when she knew the two were safe.

The snake lunged, and Ezreal quickly took a step back into the house, dragging Sona with him as the snake's fangs sunk into the sand. "Quickly," he cried out hoarsely as the guardian emerged from the passage. The two ran, their hearts beat at an uncontrollable speed, everything was happening so fast, and all they could hope to do was not get sliced in two or mangled to pieces. Glancing over his shoulder, Ezreal noticed the guardian as he swung his spear experimentally at the snake, testing how resistant the scales were. His spear went through, and with enough power, the shuriman could definitely take down that snake. He was agile and could easily keep up with the snake.

"Okay Sona," panted Ezreal as they ducked behind a building, and out of sight. "Here's the plan, we need to distract that snake, and hopefully that guardian can kill it. After that, we take care of the guardian, yeah?" Sona nodded and peeked around the corner. Her eyes widening as she pushed Ezreal out of the way. The snake burst through the wall, its fangs held apart by the guardian's spear, the shuriman protector dragged mercilessly through the ruins in an attempt to protect himself from the snake's onslaught. The duo crawled to safety not trusting their legs to keep up with the shaking ground.

From afar, they watched the guardian being tossed up in the air, and in one swift motion, the snake emerged from the buildings, eating the guardian in one fell swoop. "Scratch that, we run!" Ezreal cried out, linking his hand with Sona's. That snake was fast, however, and outrunning it was not an option. Gently shoving Sona, Ezreal led her into a nearby house, it was nearly collapsed, but there was still room inside, and the two slid down against the wall catching their breath. However, Ezreal covered his mouth, minimizing his breathing and Sona did the same, closing her eyes as she felt the beat of her heart reverberate through her chest.

Sona opened her eyes and glanced at Ez, there was no regret in her eyes, just fear, but also adoration, for the time they had spent together. She took hold of his hand and squeezed it as she closed her eyes again, taking a deep and quiet breath. Ezreal squeezed her hand reassuringly and glanced at the golden idol between his fingers. To be honest, he had completely forgotten about it during all the commotion. He held it up, and Sona let out a small sigh, and uncovering her mouth, she gently caressed the idol, it was pointless now, they were going to die a gruesome death mangled by a snake, their bodies never to be found.

The idol shattered into golden sand and a gentle breeze carried it away much to the two's shock. "What?" whispered Ezreal, the noise enough to catch the snake's attention. Hearing the snake in the distance, Ezreal grunted throwing himself on top of Sona, the ceiling collapsing as the snake tore through. Rubble fell on top of him, and despite his size, he had a resilience that few possessed. Sona opened her eyes, a drop of blood dropping on her cheek, Ezreal loomed over her, his eyes closed, a pained look on his face as another drop of blood fell on her cheek. He cursed under his breath and opened his eyes, still finding it in himself to smile at Sona.

"When I give you the signal, run," he breathed out.

"No," Sona whispered, and the two stared at each other. She reached up, her hand gently grasping her throat. Ezreal chuckled bitterly. The idol had worked it seemed, but now it was futile, such a beautiful voice, what a waste, he thought. The snake came down, and Ezreal gasped, fangs digging into his back as he looked at Sona with a blank look in his eyes. He held firm, but he couldn't deny the fear of death, he didn't want to die yet, he had so much to explore, so much to live for. With a grunt, he collapsed on top of Sona as the snake withdrew its fangs.

Sona sat up, her breath catching as she watched Ezreal's blood pooling. He was still conscious, but that pained look in his eyes, it would haunt her even in death. Wrapping her arms around the injured boy, Sona's lips parted, and her voice was angelic, she took the dull desert by storm, every note that dripped from her mouth like a prayer reverberated within the snake. Her voice was beautiful, it was unlike any other, and despite living life as a mute, her voice was strong, confident, and her emotions poured out of her soul. The snake collapsed beside them, lulled into a deep slumber and Sona paused, pressing a hand to Ezreal's back. She sang a song of compassion, sorrow, and love.

She healed Ezreal's wound at the cost of her own voice, but that was okay. She did not need her voice; she had learned to live a life of silence, just her etwahl and her. She had made friends, friends who would risk everything for her, friends she could depend on, and friends that always had her back. If losing her voice was her sacrifice, then it would be one she would gladly make. "Sona," Ezreal mumbled as he sat up, the pain slowly subsiding. The Maven smiled and parted her lips to speak, but nothing came out. However, her smile never vanished.

"I'm sorry," the explorer whispered. "I shouldn't ha-" Sona hugged him, her embrace was gentle as she buried her head in the crook of his neck. Friends like Ezreal was all she could ever ask for. She didn't need anything else. Ezreal chuckled and reciprocated the act, and the two remained locked in a heartfelt embrace for several minutes. Their recollection of today's events enough to spark bravery in the explorer. He gently took hold of Sona's chin and tilted it upwards, softly pressing his lips to hers.

"Let's go home, yeah?" Sona smiled and rising to his feet, Ezreal helped the Maven up, and hand in hand they walked out of the outskirts to find Rek' Sai waiting for them, the voidling tending to her wounds. She was glad to see the two were relatively unharmed. Covered in dust and sand, but other than that, they were in one piece, and overly fond of one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would post like bi-daily last time...that *cough* is not happening lol, mostly because I'm still rewriting things. Also, I graduated, and I'm going to be starting a new job soon. Things have been good, and I've been living life, also got a new boyfriend, and currently on a road trip. I've just been living life, and I have a right to be lazy!


	16. Syndra x Zed

The masked man stepped foot on the lone floating island, his presence already noticed by the powerful being residing within the temple. He heaved a deep and long sigh, and with a momentary lapse in judgment, he took a step forward. "Ah, Zed!" Syndra squealed rushing down the steps of her temple. The assassin let out a dark and bitter chuckle, but he had already stepped foot on the island, and it was too late to turn around now, not that Syndra would let him go either way. She was crazy about him, that much he knew, but that's what made it all the more fun. She was crazy in general, but not in a bad way.

She was a dependable ally, and in this world, having a resourceful individual to turn to made it all the easier. She was an asset, nothing more, and nothing less. Naturally, though, Zed was lying to himself, he never visited the girl much, but he enjoyed her company unconditionally. She was always full of energy and rambled on about the most frivolous of topics, but he didn't mind—not one bit. Despite her exhausting personality, as some would describe, she was rather calm and composed. After all, she had become what most would call a hermit.

"Syndra," he muttered quietly, and she smiled in return, the gesture not quite meeting her eyes. Remembering her manners Syndra gave a satirical curtsy and motioned for Zed to proceed up the temple steps. He gave a small chuckle and let himself through, three steps in, he turned around, and held his hand out to the Sovereign, entertaining her fancy.

The two sat quietly across from each other, a low set coffee table between them, with two freshly brewed cups of tea. "So what do you want from me?" Syndra asked, cutting through the silence.

"What?" Zed asked cautiously.

"No one ever comes to me unless they need help. You don't visit often, but when you do it's usually to ask a favor, so go on...spit it out."

"I need your help," he said bluntly.

"Now that's more like you, cutting right to the chase; it suits you better."

"It suits me better..." He hummed to himself, his tea sitting idle on the table, still steaming. Then, he took off his helmet and set it aside, taking a whiff of the tea before taking a sip.

"You've never been one for small talk," she remarked, dwelling on their past encounters. Zed smirked and shook his head slowly. Did she really think so little of him? What she said was most definitely accurate, but he spoke to her, played along with her frivolous games and charades. He kept her company when the occasion called for it, all in all, he chose to entertain her when the most others got out of him was a curt nod.

"Right," he agreed.

"Now then about your favor?" Zed kept a frown off his face, but the emotion was still there. It was unlike Syndra to be this direct in her affairs. She loved to beat around the bush, and she always did, that was simply her style.

"You like power, no? You've always had a craving for it."

"You want my help...in acquiring power? You're strong enough, aren't you?"

"Well aren't you full of questions-"

"It was two questions, and no."

"No?" Zed inquired, his inquisitive eyes boring into hers.

"I don't care about power any more, not that I need it."

"Oh, and why is that?" Syndra chuckled at his question and set her cup of tea down.

"Despite what others may think, there is such a thing as too much power. I'm very comfortable with my current state of affairs. This life isn't bad, you know, the peace, the quiet, and the...solitude." Zed noted the tone difference but just nodded.

"All I need is your help, more specifically your powers," Zed smirked looking her up and down. He never assumed she would become a hermit, though. And so while drinking tea, Zed made an effort of making small talk, it was childish to some degree, but Syndra seemed please, her eyes gleaming with excitement. It was good to see her this joyful. After their pleasant half-hour talk, Zed stood and glanced back at Syndra as he picked up his helmet. "Now you can't hold the  _small talk_  against me."

"Whatever you say," Syndra giggled pushing Zed down the stairs of the temple, her arms wrapping around his waist as she leaned against his back.

"Stop touching me," he growled softly trying to keep her wandering hands away. The two finally made it to the edge of Syndra's domain, and she let go of the assassin peering down past the thin layer of clouds.

"How did you get here anyway?"

"A master never reveals his secrets." The Sovereign shrugged and took hold of Zed's arm as she jumped off the island taking the man with her. Whatever Zed was about to say was cut off as he held his breath, staring the scenery beneath him, admittedly he hadn't thought of how to get down.

Down.

"Syndra," he shouted, his heart skipping a beat as they reached maximum velocity, and of course, Syndra was amused, laughing as they inevitably plummeted to certain death. "Syndra!"

"Oh, calm down," she chuckled, hugging his arm with a devilish smirk. "You're beginning to grow into a grumpy old man." Zed, threw a glare in her direction, his crimson hues peeing at her through his helm.

"I'm not old..."

"Is that a wrinkle I see?"

"You're not fooling anyone," he scoffed. Syndra smiled and capturing his eyes, she slowed down until they hit the ground, and Zed seemed to relax as his feet touched a firm surface.

"Fooled you! Who knew the great Master of Shadows was afraid of heights," she teased.

"I'm not," Zed said firmly.

"But you were so tense-"

"Anyone would be a little apprehensive when falling from such a height," he clarified, ripping his arm from hers.

"Aw, no need to be like that, I won't tell a soul."

"I would expect not, or else..." he trailed off letting the threat linger. Syndra rolled her eyes, the soft smile on her lips, only growing at his idle threat. They walked silently side by side until a question popped into the Sovereign's mind. What did Zed need her powers for anyway? He was always so serious, and it pained her to see him like this sometimes. His hunger for power, she wondered when it would stop. Sometimes she wondered if he had lost his way, what was he even fighting for? Now that she was thinking clearly, she had never asked him much, not about his situation, or anything of the sort. Perhaps Zed was right, she did talk about a lot of frivolous things, not that it mattered now.

They finally arrived at their destination, and Syndra let out a short puff of air, before turning on her heels. "Nope."

"Syndra," Zed muttered, grasping her upper arm as he turned her around to face the ruins lying before them. "You can't back out now, remember I need your help." With a pout, the Sovereign turned around and scowled at the assassin, nodding her head slowly.

"Bad memories," she mumbled.

"It was a long time ago. Besides, you have, for the most part, complete control over yourself, no?" Syndra sighed through her nostrils and shot him a displeased look.

"No one ever has complete control, you of all people should know that." That day, when she unleashed her powers, with no one to restrict her, she lost control. Everything she had ever loved turned to rubble, she destroyed, tarnished and killed. The worst part is that she felt guilty afterward, not because of the chaos she left behind, but because she had wished it. She was never the greatest when it came to controlling her emotions, but losing complete control...scared her.

With hesitant steps, she followed Zed, who looked pleased that she had not turned her back on him. They walked up to a stone door, and Zed patted the material glancing at Syndra. "What...it's just a door, open it yourself," she frowned.

"Too heavy, I've already tried—with assistance." Syndra looked at her arms, her soft flesh not even hinting at the slightest bit of muscle.

"And I'm here because?" She teased.

"Don't make me ask again."

"Oh for the love of Ionia, fine. You're no fun." Kneeling before the door, Syndra noticed the smallest slit, enough for someone to slip a finger through, if they were lucky. She accumulated a chunk of energy and watched it grow into a darkened orb before lifting the door slowly. It was barely a fourth of a meter off the ground, but Zed motioned for her to stop. She held her spheres in place and let out a deep breath, that door was heavier than she expected. Zed walked towards the door then vanished into his shadow as he reappeared on the other side, pulling a lever. The door opened, and Syndra smiled. "I know, I know, you're welcome. So what are you after?"

"A scroll." Knowing Zed would not elaborate, she dropped the subject and prepared to go in. "What are you doing?" Zed asked.

"Walking in?"

"No your job is to watch my ba-"

"What? That's not fair!"

"You're the only one I trust," he said sincerely before disappearing down the underground tunnel. Despite Syndra's frown, she scoffed and turned on her heels, keeping a lookout with a small smile.

"Well, when you say it like that..." she whispered amused. "I can't possibly deny." Zed had been gone for over an hour already, and Syndra was growing bored. She started kicking pebbles, then it evolved to throwing them at nearby pillars until she finally sat down, a scowl on her face. He was taking too long.

Syndra's ears perked up at the sound of footsteps shuffling in the dark, and with a smile, she turned around. It happened so suddenly; she barely managed to dodge the blow as Zed swung at her. "Hey, what's your probl-" She evaded his next strike, his fist grazing air as Syndra lost her footing and fell. "Zed?" The assassin let out a long breath and turned to look at woman awkwardly sitting on the floor. Syndra noticed the dim glow of his eyes and frowned, his eyes were naturally dark, but they never glowed.

The Sovereign scurried to her feet, as Zed lunged at her, he predicted her movement and his hidden blades pierced the pillar beside her ear. She let out a shaky breath and looked into his eyes. "This isn't you," she whispered, cupping the side of his helmet.  _Stop!_ The being took a step back, retracting his hidden blades and smirked underneath his mask.

_You've grown soft, Zed. What happened to you-you wish for more power, yet you dwell on such foolish thoughts such as love._

_I don't do love._

_Is that so?_ The spirit controlling Zed drew his hidden blades and stared at Syndra, a murderous gleam in his eyes. Syndra summoned one of her spheres but froze before she could hit Zed.

"Oh, that's right, you're only good at killing. Do you plan on killing me, Syndra?" His voice was velvety, unlike Zed's usual rough and baritone voice.

_Don't listen to him!_

However, it was futile, Zed was left unheard, and whatever had taken control of his body would only make the assassin suffer.

_If you want power, you have to let go. There is no room for emotions, no room for weakness._

_I am not weak!_

_Then stop me._  When Zed could do nothing but watch, an out-of-body experience which he would rather not witness. The being took hold of Syndra's arm throwing her to the ground as he pinned her down, his hidden blade grazing the flesh of her neck.  _She is weak, just like you, Zed. In this world it's kill or be killed, you'd do well to remember that._

_No!_  Zed's breath caught as he watched the being that possessed him, his hidden blade drawn back far enough to strike Syndra down where she laid. However, the Sovereign snapped out of it and glared at the assassin. The blow was sudden but sufficient to take him off guard as he recoiled, holding a hand to his chest where she had kicked him. Syndra gently rubbed her neck, where his blade had slightly dug and she scowled as dark spheres appeared around her.

"Let him go," she ordered.

"Ah, there she is," the voice taunted. "The Dark Sovereign." Syndra went on the offensive, letting her dark spheres do her work as she watched. Whoever had control over Zed did not fight like him, Zed was subtle, he was a predator, prepared to declaw and ambush, but this man was different, he was purely offensive, and endurance was his strong point. Naturally, Syndra knew her endurance was no match for his, so she would have to end this fight quickly.

She joined the fray along with her orbs, but Zed was quick to avoid her spheres as he made quick work of them, slicing through them effortlessly. "Disappointing," the being whispered. In a fit of rage, Syndra summoned all her spheres and the being watched as her eyes grew a dark purple, glowing menacingly, perhaps he shouldn't have pushed her. With an annoyed scream, she hurled her spheres at the being controlling Zed. The first two spheres in the barrage hit him, sending him tumbling back, but the others crashed into the pillar behind him, toppling the already crumbled architecture. She had missed on purpose. She couldn't bring herself to kill Zed. He was her friend...her only friend.

She was no match for him now as she dropped to her knees panting, she had used too much power in such a small window of time. The being rose to his feet despite Zed's protest and walked briskly to Syndra's kneeling form. "You shame your title. I expected more." She recalled the last words Zed had spoken to her before venturing into the ruins, and she would not betray that trust.

"Friends... don't betray each other!" With her little outburst, Syndra headbutt Zed, which was a bad decision as the hard metal of his helmet met her forehead.

"Idiot," the being whispered, unimpressed. Grabbing the girl by her throat, he lifted her off the ground met with her weak protest as she grabbed his forearm. "Truly idiotic," he scoffed. The being unsheathed his hidden blades and glanced at the sharp edges. With a bloodthirsty look in his eyes, the being thrust his arm forward, his blades coming in contact with three steel blades blocking his attack. "What-"

Irelia kicked the assassin and charged him with all her blades going on the offensive. Karma shielded Syndra as she dropped to the ground, rushing to her side. For once, Zed found their meddlesome nature to have saved the day, but that was a thought that would remain just that, a thought. The being had a hard time keeping up against the Ionian warrior. She moved like the wind, with unmatched grace and elegance, it was a perfect mixture of fighting and dancing.

Meanwhile, Karma rested Syndra's head on her lap, staring at the Sovereign with conflicted eyes, she had gone dormant for some time, staying away from the eyes and ears of Ionia. However, it could not be denied that she was a trouble maker, and she had yet to answer for her crimes. No, a being like her was a danger to all, she only caused chaos and destruction, and Karma made up her mind. She would seal her right here and now. The Enlightened One, pressed her hands together, chanting her mantra as she prepared to seal away Syndra's powers for good.

As the ritual began, Syndra awoke, the odd feeling of being drained filling her senses. She blinked three times, staring at Karma, her hands resting on her abdomen as she proceeded to seal her powers away. Pain struck her in an instant, and she screamed thrashing with no success as her powers seemed to be turning against her. This caught the being's attention, while he had no reason to care, Zed, on the other hand, was furious.  _You want me to let go? Fine._  The being chuckled feeling Zed's willing surrender, feeling his burning rage. Bloodlust followed as the assassin let go of any restraint holding him back and stood on even ground with Irelia.

The battle seemed to have taken a turn in the being's favor as his relentless assault appeared to be paying off. He threw Irelia against a nearby pillar, and before she could recover, the being lunged to deliver the killing blow. Blinded by bloodlust, Zed easily regained control and rather than her throat, he managed to redirect the attack to her abdomen, his hidden blades piercing through the cloth of her armor. Irelia looked at him in shock, and then down to where his blades had punctured her. Zed didn't waste a moment as he pulled his blades out and let the Blade Dancer fall to the ground.

His attention turned to Karma, and he let out an annoyed sigh, knowing her ritual wouldn't be finished for a while. "I will not repeat myself, take your friend and go." Karma did not have to be told twice, she was no match for the assassin, and her partner was wounded, how critically she did not know. Without another word, Karma nodded and rose circling around Zed as she jogged to Irelia, preparing for a tactical retreat. "Consider this a mercy," he whispered.

Zed knelt besides Syndra and helped her up to a sitting position, wrapping an arm around her waist, supporting her the best he could. "You okay?" She nodded, finding her speech all but gone after having her powers nearly ripped from her.

"You came back..."

"Mhm. He wasn't wrong, you know. What kind of idiot headbutts a helmet?" He asked, annoyed, rubbing the red mark on her forehead.

"The kind that doesn't want to hurt her friend." Zed tensed unsure how to handle this situation. Syndra wrapped her arms around his waist, nuzzling his chest.

"I wouldn't want you to die on my watch," Zed murmured trying to keep his cool. Syndra smiled, and he couldn't help it either; however, he was thankful for his helmet. Friendships were frivolous, like most things, in his opinion, yet here he was, unable to stop the smile tugging at his lips.

"I don't need power. I just don't want to be alone."

"I know. That's what...friends are for." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self: Always copy and paste in Rich Text...not HTML...
> 
> I feel like a grade SSS+ moron right now :(


	17. Orianna x Viktor

It was an ordinary morning, as far as Viktor could tell. Hot air rose from the underground, making its way up to the upper levels of Zaun, and the streets plagued with oblivious minds. An ordinary morning indeed. For once, he wished anything would happen. Anything. His days were absently spent staring out the window of his office, doom and gloom had taken hold within his sacred domain, but Viktor was too preoccupied with his scientific block to notice.

However, his scientists had come to fear walking into his office, despite his pragmatic mind, his foul temper had a tendency to scare others away, which begged the question as to why a knock had come at his door. Viktor rose, his eyes narrowing at the steel door, but if anyone had the audacity to bother him, it must have been for a good reason. “Enter.”

The scientist entered Viktor’s office with a shaky breath, slinking into the room, hoping to make his presence as scarce as possible. He was thankful when he found Viktor, staring out the window, a regular occurrence by now. “Well, speak,” Viktor ordered.

“It’s as you said, we tested the seven samples, and it turns out that we can-” Viktor tuned out his scientist, his gaze trailing to the man wandering down the street. His body language said he was up to no good, his eyes darting in every direction, his steps hesitant and clumsy, the constant glance over his shoulder. There were plenty of shady dealings in Zaun, but this one, in particular, caught his attention.

The bag over the stranger’s shoulder caught his attention, half of him wondered if he was disposing of a body, it honestly wouldn’t be a first, but to his surprise, the man turned to the side of his building and reappeared seconds later, the bag now gone. “Sir?”

“Hmm?” Viktor hummed turning to face his scientist, realizing he had completely zoned out his employee.

“About the project...should we continue?” Viktor absently nodded as he clasped his mantle around his shoulders, glancing towards the door.

“Yes, do as you wish. I trust you to handle the experiment accordingly.”

“R-Really!?”

“Mhm.” Viktor ushered the scientist out of his office as he wandered down the steps of his laboratory. Once out the door, he kept to the wall of his building and rounded the corner. He checked the alley but found nothing, naturally, the dumpster was his next target, and he shook his head, hoping he wouldn’t find a corpse, or something worse. A dead body was honestly the least of his concerns here in Zaun. Still, who did that man think he was, using  _his_  dumpster for his illegal dealings—and there was the bag.

Dragging it out of the dumpster, Viktor cursed as the bag ripped, and the contents spilled over, clattering to the ground, the sound of metal scraping against stone forcing a cringe out of the scientist. Bending over to get a better look at the pieces, Viktor noticed the strange human-shaped parts and his lips curved with interest as he realized it was a girl. Whoever her inventor was had an adept understanding of the technological advances that had washed over Zaun in the past few decades. The girl was a masterpiece, but Viktor doubted the man who dumped her here was her creator, he didn’t look like a bright fellow. Besides, throwing away such a masterpiece was a waste of resources, at best she would have been salvaged.

Three pieces at a time, Viktor managed to transport the dismembered robot into his laboratory, and even though he received a few curious looks, no one would think much of it. He was an inventor, a scientist, and a revolutionary at heart. Once all of the parts had been scattered across the various tables in his lab, he began to assemble the robot. Although her parts were flawlessly designed, and the inner workings of her body a complexity to challenge even his mind. Her assembly proved rather simple.

A sophisticated design incorporated into a flawlessly simplistic human structure, it was brilliant, Viktor had to admit as much. He could definitely learn a lot from this girl and her inventor. As he added the finishing touches, he jotted down a few notes as a self-reminder. Viktor cleared his throat and shook his hands to calm his excitement. He had missed the thrill of discovery. With an approving glance, Viktor placed an energy cell into the robot’s energy supply. He inserted the winding key and began turning until a click met his ears, and he released the key, watching it spin in place.

Taking a step back, he watched as the girl opened her eyes, her glowing hues bringing a small smile of satisfaction to his lips. He had done it. “Where am I?” She asked softly, her eyes darting around the well-lit laboratory space.

“My workshop, I took the liberty of fixing you up and assembling you back together-”

“I was...broken?” Viktor noted her shift in tone and shook his head at the man who had dumped her. Any idiot could have put her back together, the most complicated part was probably acquiring an energy cell, and even that was rather simple. “Where's my sphere?” Her voice rose, and Viktor frowned.

“Sphere...oh.” He scavenged through the box of spare parts in his laboratory and took out the brass sphere. It floated out of his hands and flew over to the girl as she hugged her companion. At least now Viktor knew why the sphere didn’t quite fit anywhere; it was a sort of companion who responded only to the girl, intriguing. However, she seemed worried if not scared, she was definitely sentient and even harbored her own set of emotions, not to mention her emotional attachment to her sphere. “Interesting…What is your name?”

“Orianna.”

“I see. I see. You have a name, and what can you tell me about yourself, Orianna?”

“I-” she paused, her lips coming to a still as she thought long and hard. “I don’t remember.”

“Anything at all?”

“My name is Orianna.”

“Well, yes,” Viktor said calmly. “Do you know who created you?”

“Created?” Viktor nodded slowly, realizing that this young girl used to be made of flesh and blood.

“Ignore that question. What did your father do for a living?”

“My father...he was an inventor.”

“I see. Do you remember anything else?” The girl shook her head, and Viktor nodded. Her most precious memories seemed to be intact, but having shut down, seemed to have left a blank on her most recent events. Then again, Viktor had no idea how long ago she had been dismembered. He noticed the girl glancing at the walls, her eyes often landing on the door behind him, and Viktor set his notebook aside. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands, no harm will come to you here.”

His assuring words did little to rest her nerves, though, and he opened the door, beckoning for her to exit the room. And so the girl did, Viktor took the lead, escorting her to a glass room. The glass door slid open as Viktor approached and he ushered Orianna in, both their eyes landing on the massive automaton sitting on the bed sheets. Viktor took the time to introduce Blitzcrank, and the two hit it off instantly, the girl grew more comfortable, and Viktor smiled relieved that he at least managed to ease the girl’s nerves.

Now that he knew she very much maintained an emotional state, he wouldn’t dare to experiment on her, but she was worth an observation at the very least, her design alone was something to examine better when he had the chance. While the two conversed, Viktor began working on Blitz’s energy cells, in hopes he could fix and separate them so they would not fry his protocol panel upon his next shockwave use.

Viktor had not spent much time with Blitz, mostly due to his self-lament over his scientific block, but now he noted the automaton’s self-adaption. He could adapt his protocol to mimic emotions even though he could not feel them himself. With the two of them seeming to communicate and converse well together, it reinvigorated Viktor to strive for a better future. His zealous pursuit of the technological future that awaited the world...it was right in front of him. Perhaps this was what the future would look like.

“May I?” Orianna interrupted, and Viktor glanced to her and noticed her eager eyes. He wasn’t sure about letting her do anything at all, but expressing his doubtful nature would help no one in this situation. Her brass orb floated beside her, and Viktor watched as the sphere absorbed the energy from the cell, and with precision, Viktor didn’t know the girl possessed, she separated the cells and unfused them from the inner metal workings of the automaton. The sphere, as if on cue, transferred the energy back into the cells and then gave a polite smile as she backed away.

“Did your father teach you that?” Viktor asked.

“He taught me many things.” The conversation grew silent again, and Viktor wondered if there was bad blood between her and her father or simply hurtful memories, he couldn’t pinpoint the sudden change in tone or attitude. The two left Blitz to tend to the rest of his repairs, and Orianna waved at him before slipping out of the room to follow Viktor.

Over the next few weeks, Orianna had grown accustomed to the facilities shown to her, and she had access to nearly every door, though she spent most days visiting Blitz when he came back for his routine checkups or watching Viktor work, and offering her assistance when he asked for it. Of course, Orianna allowed Viktor to observe her and to examine the inner workings of her engineering.

“May I ask an intrusive question?” Viktor mumbled, attaching her arm back to her shoulder.

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you dislike your father?”

“No...I loved my father very much. I understand why he turned me into a clockwork, but I’m not who I used to be, and everything feels so distant.” Viktor nodded as he winded her key, a habit he had grown accustomed to over the past few weeks. It would be odd for a human girl to transform rather abruptly and retain the same sentiments. However, she was self-conscious.

“What is so different about the new you?”

“Well, I feel-”

“No, not emotionally. Tell me about yourself, let’s start with hobbies.”

“I like to tinker with clockworks and inventions. I like to help you with your work and observe experimentations; they fascinate me. They reminded me of when I went to the theatre and the stories that every dancer told, it is very much like science in a way.”

“Hmm, tell me more about this theater and the dancers.” Viktor hadn’t expected the next half-hour to be tangent after tangent of all the memories she held about this sacred place of hers. However, her tone soon turned somber.

“Ever since I turned into a clockwork, I don’t enjoy watching them perform anymore. I don’t want to watch their stories, I want to make my own, and I don’t feel like I can learn anything more from them.”

“Ah, and you feel you can learn from me?”

“Yes!” the intensity in her eyes increased, and Viktor raised a thoughtful brow. “There are routine tasks that are a necessity for your work, but watching the chemicals react and fight each other—it reminds me of those dancers.”

“Why don’t you dance? No one is going to stop you, and you can dance to your heart’s content.” Her emotional attachment was held together by thin strings linking her new life to her old one, and he had yet to ask about the sphere that seemed to always hover at her side. She never gave it commands or spoke to it, but the sphere seemed to react naturally to her. It was drawn to her, and it sought to help her in any way it could, a truly admirable companion.

“It does not bring me any gratification to dance.”

“Chemicals…” Viktor hummed to himself, and with a small chuckle, he rose from his seat and pushed chairs, tables, and equipment to the side. With a slight bow, he extended his hand to Orianna. “It usually takes two reactants to form a reaction. So may I have this dance?” His analogy may have been cheesy, but Orianna seemed to respond to it well as she placed her hand in his. “I must warn you, though, I’m not much of a dancer.”

“That’s okay. I’ve never danced with someone before,” she mumbled. If Orianna was shy, this would perhaps be his closest example. Viktor took a deep breath, and calmed himself, placing his hand on her waist, Orianna placed her hand on his shoulder and the two intertwined fingers. Taking a step forward, Viktor began leading, making sure to control his steps and give Orianna plenty of time to follow as to not step on her feet. Viktor peered down at Orianna, and despite the glow of her eyes, it was a warm and comforting blue color.

Viktor let go of her, and with elegance, he didn’t know he possessed, he spun her around twice and smiled as the two rocked in each other’s arms. “There is no need to feel self-conscious; you are still you. You are still the girl who loves to invent and tinker with inventions. You are still the girl who admires the beauty that life has to offer, and the many stories it has told and will continue to tell. You are still the same passionate girl who loves to dance. These simple things do not change. You are perfect in my eyes.” Viktor came to a stop and placed his hands on her shoulders. “This new life of yours, do not picture it as a burden, but as an opportunity. This is your chance to tell your own story, little one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! :)


	18. Quinn x Zed

Quinn inhaled the lingering scent of dew resting atop the leaves as she traveled deeper into the forest. The scattered branches cracked underneath the pressure of her weight, her crossbow stood at the ready, and unlike most of her operations, she had no intention of being stealthy this time around. Quinn took long and confident strides, but the feeling was not reciprocated on the inside. She was anxious and had every reason to be.

Trying to hide from an assassin like Zed was not worth her time, she knew she would lose that petty game of hide-and-seek as soon as it began. In her opinion, she preferred staying out in the open, waiting for him to come to her. Valor circled the trees above, keeping watch for the masked assassin, but Quinn knew better. Zed would not let himself be spotted. She halted in her tracks, looking up at the masked killer who sat lazily on a branch without giving a single care in the world. So perhaps she was wrong, maybe he did want to be seen..?

Quinn kept her eyes peeled, and her senses heightened as she waited for a surprise attack from any direction, she knew the assassin sitting just a few feet away from her could be a clone. However, as more seconds passed, it seemed as though the assassin was not a fake. Zed raised a finger to his chin, observing the Demacian huntress. He jumped down pleasantly surprised to find an arrow lodged in the tree behind him. “You have good instincts and reflexes,” he commented.

The huntress let out a whistle, and Valor swooped down, talon’s at the ready, grazing Zed’s arm, but the assassin seemed to mean it no harm as he did not bother to draw his blades. She had been charged with capturing Zed. Why? She couldn’t answer that question herself. Well, that wasn’t quite right. There were a million reasons to behead the crimson man before her, but tasking her with this mission, it seemed almost surreal. Quinn was confident in her martial prowess, but even her ego and arrogance had some bounds, and today they had been met.

Still, it was a mission that had been assigned to her, and damn if she came back empty-handed, even if it killed her. “Let’s see how fast you really are,” Zed mocked as he took off sprinting deeper into the forest. Quinn glanced at Valor, and the bird gave her a skeptical look.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Quinn sighed. “I don’t know either.” Whether she liked it or not, she began running deeper into the forest after the masked assassin, she couldn’t afford to lose him, it took her weeks to track him down, and Quinn would be damned if she lost track of him again. He was quick, she had to give him that, but she grew up running through thick vegetation and decrepit forests. She, too, was a hunter. A part of her found this fun and thrilling, the same part of her that enjoyed the satisfaction of earning a good kill, and at times it bothered her just how much she enjoyed the  _hunt_.

However, Quinn failed to notice the thin invisible line running across two trees, and her ankle caught on the wire as she fell headfirst into the mud. She groaned sitting up, feeling a warm liquid trickling down her nose, but wiping it away quickly, she readied her dagger in case a certain assassin came too close. Hearing a small rumble behind her, Quinn wasted no time as she rose to her feet and turned on her heels, kicking the figure behind her. Before her foot could connect, however, Zed grabbed her ankle, his other hand on her calf, and in one motion, he twisted her leg, making her lose balance once more.

Each and every time Quinn tried to get up, she would find herself eating mud, again and again, the frustration of it all making her see red. “You’re a decade too young to be challenging me, little one. Run home.” In a fit of rage, Quinn grasped onto the slender wire at her knees and wrapped the loosed material around Zed’s foot, and with all her might, tugged watching him collapse into the mud. This caught the assassin off guard, and hitting the ground took his breath away as air sprinted from his lungs, and he watched in amusement as the huntress rose to her feet.

“And you’re one decade too late, old man.” Quinn jumped him, her body turning as she added momentum to the oncoming onslaught of her fist. She had been waiting for this moment for the past few weeks, and she would not let the opportunity slip by. However, Quinn quickly regretted her decision as Zed blocked her blow with his helmet, and she hissed retreating swiftly. Zed chuckled as he sat up, readjusting his mask.

“Old…” he muttered to himself, a small laugh escaping him. Quinn took a few steps back, mentally going over the files she had read the month prior, was this really Zed? He was too passive in comparison to the ruthless killer she had read about. In a second, he vanished into thin air, and Quinn frowned, realizing too late as she felt his breath running down her neck, he grabbed her hair and threw her down into the mud, his foot settling on her back, keeping her pinned to the ground.

“First of all, I am not old. Second of all, you should not disrespect your elders, especially when you leave yourself open. Third of all, you are out of your league, and I am in no mood to entertain your bravado at the moment, so go home, kid.”

“I’m not a-”

“Silence, the adult is speaking,” he chastised, the heel of his foot burying deeper into her back. “Now then, your bird is waiting for you.” He removed his foot from her back, watching as the assassin they had sent after him slowly rose to her knees, and her pathetic state brought a sigh to the masked man’s lips. Getting up to her feet, Quinn leaned against a nearby tree and shook her head. She was not one to give up so easily. She charged him full of emotion, her punch never connecting as she grazed air, Zed having side-stepped her attack. He pushed her down with little strength, and the girl was sent plummeting back into the mud, laying flatly on her stomach.

However, Quinn was not a quitter, if anything she was known for her stubbornness, and hence, she would not be running home, not today. Their little spat had become a repeated event throughout the next few days. Quinn knew she was no match for him, but she couldn’t tell Jarvan she failed. She could not tolerate failure, and neither could the empire. Coming home empty-handed felt like a betrayal of its own, he trusted her with this mission, and Quinn could not fail her prince. Just the image sparked determination into her very soul, and she would not make him regret naming her Demacia’s Wings.

Even if Zed had no intention of killing her, she would make him eat dust at least once, much as she had been for the past five days. Of course, it was easier said than done, but finding herself on the ground for the hundredth time was starting to drain her. “Not bad, you’re getting better,” Zed commented huskily. Quinn groaned, her cheek pressed against the mud as she tried to get up, but her muscles failed her. Minutes later, it began raining and realizing she was alone at last, she closed her eyes. The fatigue and hunger eating away at her worn body.

Quinn awoke feeling something soft hit her, and with a whine she sat up, covering her eyes from the filtering light between the leaves. “Eat,” Zed motioned to the ball of rice wrapped in bamboo leaves. Without so much as a word, Quinn devoured the rice, wishing she had hunted an animal the week before. Zed threw another riceball her way, and she caught it, eating it with haste. Zed observed from the branch above and smirked; the girl reminded him of a chipmunk, it was quite adorable.

However, his kind gesture had sparked the opposite effect, her eyes darting to him, her hues filled with a burning passion to fight him again, and he sighed. Why couldn’t she just go home? A night under the rain didn’t seem to have dampened her mood one bit, by the look in her eyes. At least the rain had washed some of the mud away, but she still looked like a mess. It wasn’t all that bad, though, the kid was entertaining, and he had plenty of fun teasing her, despite her stubborn attitude.

It took Zed less than ten minutes for Quinn to eat dirt once more, and he let out an audible sigh tapping his thigh in slight annoyance as the girl tried to get back on her feet. “I like your spirit, kid, but when are you going to leave me alone?” Despite his words, Zed could have left a long time ago, he had an entire night to do so, but running would have done no good, this girl would track him to the end of the world.

“I’m not a kid!”

“Yes, yes.”

“I’m going to bring you in once and for all,” she huffed rolling over onto her back as she grabbed his leg. Zed removed his foot from her chest and rubbed the back of his neck. “Unlike you, I have a reputation to uphold.” Zed leaned down to get a better look at the audacious girl in front of him. He drew his hidden blades and pressed them to the girl’s neck.

“I hear mine is less than favorable nowadays, is that right?”

“Yeah, you’re downright foul, but deep down I think you’re just a coward,” she whispered, taking hold of his wrist.

“You little-” Zed was cut off by the sound of human voices in the distance, and he sneered smacking Quinn’s hand away.

“I told you a dozen times, and it’s not here. Those bastards probably took-” the hunters stopped short as they spotted Quinn.

“Well look who we’ve got here, she’ll sell for a good price.”

“You have no business in this forest, hunters,” Quinn spat rubbing the smudge of dirt off her face. She glanced to her left, but Zed had already vanished. How typical. Zed watched from above as her face turned into a frown, readying her crossbow. “I’ll make you understand with every bone in your body.” One more man emerged from the tree line, a bloody bag in hand and Quinn stared unimpressed. Bounty hunters. She aimed her crossbow at the bag carrier and shot him down, his mates watching him collapse with a look of outrage.

The leader of the bandits charged her, but Quinn beat him to it side-stepping his blow and uppercutting him. “That’s for interrupting my mission!” Zed scoffed partially amused considering her hunt had already been long over. She didn’t need her crossbow to take down a sleazy bunch of hunters. Her martial arts was not the best, Zed had proven her as much, but she still packed a good punch when she wanted to. She blocked the bandit’s fist and threw him over her shoulder, driving him into the ground.

She felt herself tiring out quickly, and as another bandit went for a hit, she redirected his attack, using his own strength against him. Once she had him at her mercy, Quinn buried her knees into his abdomen and tossed him aside. The last bandit drew his dagger and charged at her, Quinn evaded the blow grabbing his wrist and tugging him past her, breaking his arm in the process. She didn’t have to do anything as she let go of him, the bandit scurried back on his own, holding his broken arm. Zed hummed, it seemed as though she had picked up on his martial art style, that said he hadn’t broken her arm though.

Quinn sighed slumping against a nearby tree, sliding down the trunk as she hit the forest floor. Every muscle in her body ached, and she groaned watching as Zed landed in front of her, the remaining bandit fleeing for his life. Quinn got back on her feet and assumed a fighting position. “You have too much fight in you,” he mumbled as she charged him, her movements were reckless, and all Zed did was evade, and it was enough for her to lose her footing and fall on the ground. “At least you always get back up.”

As if on cue, Demacia’s Wings rose to her feet, still looking for a fight. Zed swept her off her feet and watched as she collapsed to the ground. “I like your mentality, to some degree but...you should also know when to give up.” Quinn let out an exasperated huff, her nails digging into the dirt as she tried to help herself up, but Zed placed a foot on her stomach shaking his head. “Perhaps next time.”

“Next time?” Quinn inquired. “You mean…” The last thing she saw was his foot before blacking out. Hours later, Quinn awoke in an unfamiliar bed; she was quick on her feet and inspected the room thoroughly. Realizing a Demacian banner covered part of the wall, Quinn sighed noting this was her personal quarters within the palace, not that she was very familiar with them. Quinn hardly ever spent time in the capital. She yawned stretching to the best of her ability, her head throbbing and muscles aching. “Well, this is embarrassing,” she mumbled to herself.

A knock came at the door, and the huntress flinched unsure if she wanted to be in the company of another at the current moment, but she could not refuse. “Come in.” Jarvan walked through the dark oak doors, and in a matter of seconds, Quinn was on her feet, saluting, her posture leaving a lot to be desired. “My prince,” she greeted.

“None of that formality,” he gestured, inviting himself in as he grabbed a chair dragging it to her bedside. “Feeling better?” The prince asked glancing over the bandages the physician had so graciously applied.

“Never better, your highness,” Quinn smiled awkwardly, patting her chest.

“You were found near the outskirts of the forest on Demacian lands. You should thank Garen when you get the chance.” Quinn nodded; it was quite a ways from where she had fought Zed, no it was an entirely different forest.

“I’m sorry I failed,” Quinn said solemnly, she kneeled before her prince, head hung low as she reflected on her mission. “Your wings have failed you, do with me as you please.” Jarvan frowned, he himself dropping to his knees as he rested a hand on her shoulder. 

“Not every battle is to be won, but in due time, we conquer past failures. You are still my wings. You are still Demacia’s Wings. Trust me Garen has made more mistakes than you could ever hope to surpass in your lifetime,” he chuckled.

“You shouldn’t tell him that my prince…”

“Bah, he already knows!” Quinn’s lips twitched into a faint smile, and she nodded, if he had been trying to make her feel better, he sure had succeeded.

“I partially blame myself, I overestimated your skills,” Jarvan realized how wrong that sounded, but Quinn nodded, taking no offense to his words.

“In all fairness, I overestimated my own skills...he wiped the floor with my ass,” she grumbled, her cheeks heating in embarrassment, she would never outlive this as long as she lived.

Zed had been right, though. Failure was inevitable. It was bound to happen one day or another, as long as you always get up, that’s all that mattered. Never let despair cripple you. “Wish to tell me about your mission,” Jarvan asked, guiding Quinn back to her bed so she could lie down.

“Your information doesn’t do him justice, my prince. He must have changed a lot-” He wasn’t that bad, but Quinn would not be saying that aloud. “He taught me a valuable lesson, and I look forward to meeting him again and give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“A true Demacian,” the prince chuckled. “As long as you draw breath, never stop soaring, my friend.” With a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder, the prince excused himself wishing her a good recovery. Quinn glanced out the window of her room and sighed.

“Next time…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, guys! :)


	19. Kha'Zix x Elise

In the depths of Noxus resided the Spider Queen, also known as Elise, revered for her ruthlessness, yet her gentle nature when it came to her children. She knew not the meaning of mercy but had grown fond of her unorthodox visitor. Part of her human conscience remained, but she soon found that only the vile deeds and sins retained a place in her heart. In all her wickedness, she wouldn’t have called herself evil per se, but it was a necessity for her to feed on the unsuspecting few who wandered into the depths of her lair.

So when her spiderlings informed her of an unruly creature that had set off one of her traps, the Spider Queen couldn’t wait to see what kind of prey she had caught today. Her slender legs treading carefully over the roots of the forest, across hidden spiderwebs, her children following in her wake awaiting to see what kind of feast would await them today. Unfortunately for Elise, she stumbled upon the one insect that had stolen a part of her heart.

Still, though, she was annoyed, her spiderlings looking on in disappointment as they could not rip the man limb by limb and devour him. “You again,” Elise sighed. “If you must know, yes Rengar came to me a few days ago seeking venom, but if you are on a hunt, I’m afraid he’s not here. Now, then, off you go.” She cut him down from the spiderwebs and motioned for him to leave her forest; she had no business with him today.

However, Kha’Zix remained standing before the Queen, tilting his head in mild curiosity. “Did I not make myself clear? Shoo. My darling children can’t prowl their hunting ground with you lurking about. You’re scaring them.”

“I’m not here for Rengar,” he informed, shaking the idle silk strings still stuck to his wings. Kha’Zix frowned at her blatant disregard for his courting but said nothing to anger the already grumpy Spider Queen. She tolerated him, but he would not push his luck, not when she looked ready to burn the world to ashes.

“I’m not in the mood today, perhaps another day,” she sighed, turning on her heels as she prepared to skulk back to her lair, and sleep off her unusual mood.

“I have a gift for you, I found...it...during my travels, and I thought you might like the idea of adding someone to your collection.” At this, Elise glanced over her shoulder, her eyes examining the hunter before her, trying to figure out his angle, but he seemed an honest voidling for the time being.

“Fine, but let us not take all day, yes?” Kha’Zix agreed and motioning with his wing, he took the lead escorting the Queen to her promised prize. Her spiderlings followed, to ensure her safety, the biggest ones staying behind the guard the Queen’s lair.

“I thought you liked my company,” the insect spoke, wishing to start a conversation, and hoping it would not be in vain.

“I really am not in the mood today-”

“This oughta cheer you up then!” With a small bow, Kha’Zix presented a tied up spider, one resembling Elise, except he was a man and she hummed in acknowledgment.

“This does put a smile on my face,” she murmured observing the Spider, the two locking into an intense stare. “He’s beautiful.”

“What?”

“Look at his cheekbones, oh and those little fangs. He’s adorable, where did you find him?”

“If you don’t kiss and tell, then I don’t hunt and tell,” the predator countered. He had not expected her to be so receptive to the spiderling, and she seemed in adoration of the creature rather than in contempt. Kha’Zix replayed the scenario he thought would go down over and over in his head. He didn’t take her to be so starved for companionship that she would take another like her under her wing. It seemed unlike her.

The Voidreaver had expected to earn her favor, but instead, he found himself as the third wheel, watching the Queen of Spiders slip even further from his grasp. With an annoyed growl, he followed the two back to Elise’s lair, but her spiders seemed adamant on holding the creature back as they webbed his feet, restricting him from going any further.

“Elise-” She was already gone. “Oh, real mature!” He shouted to the wind. Taking a seat near the entrance of the lair, Kha’Zix kicked at the rotten log before him. At that moment, he wished this quest of his could have been as simple as stalking prey and killing it. If he had known that courting someone required so much effort, he would have tried a bit harder, or not at all. Humans made it look so easy, but perhaps this was what they called unrequited love. Those words stung him hard, and he cleared his mind sharpening his claws. Perhaps another day.

With a last sigh of defeat, the voidling got on its feet, preparing to head out. He would try his luck tomorrow. However, Elise came out of her cave, looking mighty content with herself and leaning against her cobwebs, she smirked at the predator. “On your way out?”

“Yes,” he answered curtly, and Elise rose a brow, it was unlike him to be so brief, he loved to chatter when it came to her. Her eyes demanded a reason, and Kha’Zix checked his wings. “You seemed busy was all. I will come back tomorrow. Have fun with your children.”

“Hmm, I did, he was quite tender,” Elise smiled, rubbing her cheeks. “So sweet, and so loving.” The voidling was speechless, his eyes snapping in her direction as he contemplated whether or not he had heard her right. “Slight bitter after taste but I’m sure I’ll get over it,” she hummed biting at her lips.

“You ate...him?” Kha asked, unsure if he should be worried or relieved.

“Well, of course, I am the Spider Queen, and none shall oppose me. Besides, no one will ever replace you Kha’Zix; there is only one of you.” With that, Elise place a gentle kiss on his cheek and waved him goodbye as she wandered back into her den, her spiderlings following suit. The Voidreaver smiled and shook his head slowly.

“Women…” he sighed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short, but I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Also, I'm starting college in about a week, so wish me luck :(
> 
> (SOS)


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